Elyssa Nastalski

Early on in our marriage, Dave and I took our full leap into entrepreneurship. We made the call to walk away from our safe, secure full-time jobs right as our startup was teetering between just kind of functioning each day and really becoming something substantial. We’d seen glimpses of the potential, and we knew that it would require every bit of our attention to tip this thing in the direction of success. This was our “do or die” moment. 

Since we were focused on maximum growth at the time, this also meant that we decided to leave all incoming funds to the business. We had a bit of money saved up, along with some remaining bonus checks from our previous jobs that could keep us afloat (at least for a little while). And once that ran out, we trusted that we’d learn how to manage.

Now, it would have been nice if our growth had been so explosive that within a few months business was booming beyond our wildest dreams and we didn’t have a care in the world, but that’s not exactly how it went. And even as things did start to really shape up, we felt a sort of guilt about draining anything from this machine we’d oiled to get to this point. And so, we carried on for several more months with nothing. The savings and bonus checks ran out. The bills piled up. And we began selling our belongings to get by. 

Was not knowing exactly how we’d keep the lights turned on stressful? 1000%.  There were days when things reached a boiling point. There were sometimes tears. There were plenty of doubts. But we kept powering through and focusing on the good.

What I learned during this time was how little I truly needed to survive. We bought the cheapest meals possible. (I’m talking daily Ramen noodles, cereal and PB + Js.) We stayed in, rather than hopping around bars and restaurants with our friends. We cut cable and streaming services. And we figured out which things were important to us and how to make them work for as little as humanly possible. At the time, we lived for adventure. The position that we were in allowed for us to do some pretty cool things for work. But we also learned that we could travel to incredible places and barely spend a dime. Sometimes we were scraping the seats for change to get home. And we always kind of giggled at the challenge. I can tell you that we don’t regret one bit of this stage of our life. We had so much fun. We learned so much. And we felt SO fulfilled.

Now, I’m not claiming to be numb to wanting “more.” Do I have little blips where I think, “Man, what a life that would be. I want that.” when I see luxurious things? Of course I do. I think it’s fair to say that just about everyone wants nice things (except my grandfather… but he’s a whole other post, or rather a novel, of his own that we’ll get to another time.) But for me, that feeling of desire is pretty fleeting. And in my day-to-day,  I don’t really believe that I need more than what I already have. If I can finish out the month without worrying how I’m going to keep the lights on, I consider myself blessed. On top of that, I’ve got a loving, healthy family, a roof over my head, food on the table and a strong community around me that I swear could melt the world’s biggest cynic into a pile of mush if you saw the love they have to give.  

I’ve also watched and analyzed the world long enough to realize that some of the  wealthiest, most powerful people are some of the least happy. And on the other end of the spectrum, some folks in extreme poverty smile brighter than anyone you’ve ever laid eyes on. That should tell you pretty quickly that money will never be your source of happiness.

This year has been filled with giant speed bumps, unavoidable anxiety and obvious threats to our finances. It brought me back to those days when we were just getting started.

I think it’s easy to go into strictly survival mode. I don’t blame a single soul who’s been hit with hardship this year and put on their horse blinders to the rest of the world. And trust me, I know that sometimes things become so dire that you really have to function in that way. But when we realized we had dodged a bullet and were able to stay afloat, we were torn apart thinking about those who didn’t.

When we reached out to our local small business relief fund to let them know we wanted to make a contribution, the first response was, “Are you sure??” We’re a small business. We’ve been shut down for months. We’ve boarded up our windows. And we have another little human being to take care of. Why on earth would we be giving anything away right now?

As far as I’m concerned, it’s not ours to begin with. The people around us helped us through when we needed it most. And now we see others around us who could use it more than us at the moment. It’s time to pay it forward. We began donating 20% of the proceeds from our exclusive RALEIGH needlepoint hats to Shop Local Raleigh’s Relief fund. And we’ve already been able to make a significant contribution (again thanks to an awesome community of folks who care).

I’m not telling you this to get credit for a good deed or pat myself on the back. I’m hopeful that it encourages you to spread this spirit and generosity onward. I firmly believe it’s what the world could use more than anything right now.

So if God blesses you with more than what you need, build yourself a longer table. Who will you invite to have a seat with you?

If you’d like to purchase one of our hats, we have limited stock left. You can find them here.