In Dialogue: Elise Joseph
In Dialogue: Elise Joseph
Our next In Dialogue feature honors a dear friend, colleague, and fellow entrepreneur. It is a celebration to share Elise Joseph with you today.
Elise, based in Los Angeles, is a consultant and writer. She is also the owner of Duende, a home for one-of-a-kind pieces, visual inspiration, and artistic collaborations. You may recognize Duende from Elise’s and my recent collaboration, one of my favorite Wiley-inclusive projects to date.
Elise is also the wise and attuned consultant behind my creative work. It is she who conceptualized The Wiley Dinner Series, our event at The Well Lived Woman, and more. Recently, she was studying our Instagram, and she sent me a list of recommendations for how to more clearly communicate our story and values. When you hear the voice and experience the work of Wiley Canning Company, you will know Elise’s mind is a key caretaker of the living, growing body that is Wiley.
As you read our interview below, you will detect my deep adoration for Elise. I have known her for nearly ten years, and from day one, she has proven to be tirelessly invested, honest, kind, and supportive.
Let’s dive in…
Chelsea: You are an exceptionally creative and attuned human, woman, and close friend. One thing, I believe, that contributes to this is you are a high-sensory person. You have a deep knowing about what looks, sounds, tastes, smells, and feels just right, in a variety of contexts. What is difficult about being so high-sensory? What is advantageous about it, powerful perhaps?
Elise: There’s a popular phrase that says something like, “Your greatest strength can also be your greatest weakness.” Most of the time, my senses and intuition serve me in beautiful ways. I’m able to experience the world very deeply, which often leads to intense awe, joy, curiosity, and groundedness. On the contrary, when I am struggling or not operating from a healthy place, I can experience sorrow, overwhelm, and lack of boundaries—easily feeling isolated, misunderstood, or stuck.
When I was in my early twenties, I felt frustrated that I didn’t seem to have one straightforward gift, talent, or direction for my life—something obvious to help guide me along the way. I had friends who were finding success in the corporate world, or becoming big names in the music industry. It was hard to not compare myself or feel jealous of their clear life path.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve begun to understand that my true gift is in my creativity, in finding, celebrating, and sharing beauty in different forms. One day that might look like helping a client hone their brand identity and overall vision. Another day, I’m dreaming up special events and ways to bring people together around a shared interest. When I’m developing content and imagery, or working to bring a new product to life, I feel grateful to look at something from a unique, well-rounded perspective. No day is ever the same, which keeps things interesting and exciting to me.
Chelsea: You are so purposeful in calling out others’ gifts. For nearly a decade now(!), you call attention to what makes me me. You do so much more than acknowledge my inherent gifts; you grow them, amplify them, and even encourage me to share them in ways that stretch me. If I were to hold up a mirror to you, what might you call out about your own gifts? What makes you...you? What is an inherent gift that makes you feel proud, one you might hope your niece, Viola, experiences herself one day? In what ways do you currently wish to grow and share this particular gift, if at all?
Elise: I’ve always been drawn to collaboration and stretching myself in various ways. I am grateful to have built a large community and network over the years. I’m a deep feeler and very perceptive, so it brings me a lot of pleasure to help amplify, deepen, and connect others—especially in ways they may find surprising. When I see the people around me thriving and living fully, it makes me better, too.
I hope to maintain a childlike sense of wonder, but these days it’s easy to get cynical, negative, and down. We have so many things constantly competing for our attention. We’re addicted to our screens. We’re bombarded with information and headlines and bad news. I’ve been wrestling with this lately—trying to allow my feelings to come through, but not staying stagnant. I’m working to slow down, breathe, and incorporate rhythms and rituals that help support my mind, body, and spirit each day. I truly believe that we have to first take care of ourselves in order to best support others.
Chelsea: You were born and raised in Nashville. Recently, after over 30 years of having roots in Nashville, you cleared out your storage unit, the final space that housed and protected your belongings, some of which are your most sacred. To me, I can’t help but envision you on a stage, behind a heavy, red, velvet curtain, preparing for your Second Act. What gave you, and what gives you, the courage to change something so longwithstanding, a multi-faceted life in Nashville, after all of this time? What piece of wisdom might you share with someone also on the precipice of a Second Act?
Elise: I wish this was only my Second Act! Haha, I feel like I’ve had to reinvent many times in this life, and I’m sure many more to come. Home is a tricky word, and I’m continually digging to the core of my being to shed my idea of what safety and security mean. Home isn’t connected to one specific place for me, it’s wherever I feel free.
Sometimes there have been substantial sheddings— a divorce or a cross-country move or a career pivot—and other times there have been much smaller sheddings—a letting go or a redirection.
It’s never easy, but we as humans are pretty resilient and adaptable to change. That being said, I have to be careful not to fantasize or get too caught up in the stories inside my head—my “grass is greener" attitude definitely does not always ring true. I’m so thankful for a strong support system, my husband and close friends, who are willing to call me out when I’m acting crazy, or pick me up when I’m feeling low. My relationships are the most meaningful part of my life. We carry one another.
Chelsea: When my grandmother passed away, my longing for her didn’t begin until several weeks postmortem. We would often go a couple of weeks between texts and phone calls, but we wouldn’t ever go several weeks, or now, several months. I long to share my life with her. I long to hear her surprising, candid comments. Recently, you wrote about a very personal experience of longing. You were brought to tears by this when we traveled to Joshua Tree together. My question is: when you feel a longing for something, or someone, what do you do next?
Elise: For me personally, I often find I’m longing for something in the future, something unknown or seemingly just out of reach. A child, or financial security, or a house that we one day own. Occasionally it is a memory from the past—a motorcycle ride through the mountains with my grandfather, the passionate chemistry of a new relationship, getting to hold my niece for the very first time.
In this recent season of life, longing has felt all-consuming and distracting, keeping me from experiencing what is here for me, right now. The love, humor, delight and insanity of the present moment. I will go outside with my bare feet and my dog and just stand in the grass, trying to anchor and root into reality. I’m consistently reminding myself to surrender and hold it all with an open hand.
Chelsea: How much does your femininity influence the work you create?
Elise: I love juxtaposition and contrast—femininity and masculinity, high and low, old and new. To me, the magic is in the middle...in the both/and. If I’m operating from a heartfelt place of vulnerability and honesty, I feel the most feminine and alive.
Chelsea: What is one food-related habit, priority, or value rooted in your past, with family or close friends, that you wish to carry forward into the future? If there isn’t one, what might you start?
Elise: I grew up in a family with clearly defined roles. My mom stayed at home and my dad worked the ‘9 to 5’. Because of that, my mom felt a sense of obligation around food and cooking, which kind of sucked the joy and fun out of it for her. She didn’t want to put that on us as kids, so I usually wasn’t very attuned to what was happening in the kitchen. Now that I’m grown, with a family of my own, we enjoy spending time together cooking, prepping, grocery shopping and eating—each of us contributing to our meals without expectation.
You can follow Elise on Instagram here. She also writes on Substack here.
Shop Duende items here.
Photos by: Chelsea J. O’Leary