As with many of life’s most meaningful pursuits, the idea for What on Earth was born from a period of immense struggle. At the ripened age of 25, following a decade long struggle with depression, obsessive compulsive disorder, self-harm, anxiety, and ultimately substance abuse, I was diagnosed with what doctors considered rapidly progressive, “end-stage” alcoholism. The self-inflicted nature of addiction created a spiral of confusion and suffering so severe that I had little care or hope for what became of me, and it would be another two years from the first grim medical warnings until I was able to put together more than a few weeks sober.                  

          Through many failed attempts to get clean on my own, I would require a series of intensive medical detoxes and rehabilitation. I owe my life to a host of humans who poured more love and care into me than I have ever known. I will never forget the initial days following my last drink when the fog began to dissipate. Having numbed myself so significantly for so long, the horror of becoming fully aware of what I had done and who I had become opened a floodgate of shame and panic unlike any I had ever experienced. This flood of feeling and awareness, however, brought with it a consciousness of the smallest, simplest joys in return. Through all of the pain, there were real glimmers of hope, connection, and comfort that served as a life preserve in an otherwise expansive and terrible void.

            I can still vividly remember the initial nights spent sweating and tossing until morning, when the only thing I had to look forward to was the sensation of warm morning coffee against my throat, softened by the sweet cream I used to help it go down on my scathed stomach. In these glimpses of pleasure and clarity, I witnessed other people as sick as me, learning how to take back their lives from the insidious grip of addiction. We held an immediate bond from the shared battlefield in which we lost everything. Some days, all we could do was laugh over shared cups of watered down hospital coffee, and to steadily decide with each new day to not give up. These were the moments of my life that I believe I witnessed the true extent of human strength, and the profound capacity within each of us to endure and overcome unfathomable obstacles. 

             Soon these mornings turned to weeks and then months, and the light was slowly returning to my eyes. I had a newfound awe for my body, and the inconceivable ways it had carried me through everything, fought for my survival, and healed the damage I had inflicted on it with nothing short of miraculous grace. 

             I also had a newfound reverence for each new morning that came... mornings I very well could have never been around to see. What once was the most dreaded and sickly part of my day, became my greatest joy. I began to recognize that there was something sacred to the very experience of waking up, and the absurd likelihood that we not only exist, but can continue to rise again and again. 

             Life was far from perfect in those first few months of recovery, but I managed to channel my regained lucidity into learning how to fall in love with my life, and what it meant to take care of myself on the most basic human level. I still had stomach sensitivity from the alcohol damage, so rethinking my diet was pivotal. I began to explore healthy options and concoctions in my kitchen with childlike curiosity and zeal. Still fumbling to make up for lost time both mentally and fiscally, I grew dissatisfied with the overpriced products and brands that contained any semblance of the quality I desired.

             So, naturally, I decided to make my own. The most important of these being my own version of wholesome coffee creamers that could foster my continued fondness for mornings and harness the strength I had found in those first gentle cups just a few months prior. It was quickly pointed out to me that such a product would be a gift to many others who also enjoyed adding a little something to their morning beverage, but disliked the syrupy, sugary, artificial guck of almost all the big creamer brands. With this thought now rooted in my mind, I could think of few things more meaningful than extending the self-care and love of life that these creamers had grown to represent for me. 

             Our lives are ultimately comprised of a series of mornings. From each of them comes the choices and experiences that make up the entirety of our wild and brief time on earth. I truly believe what we surround ourselves with and put into our bodies, especially first thing in the morning, can have a significant impact on our experience of life as a whole. 

             While there are infinite ways to go about implementing genuine wellness into each new day, I hope that What On Earth creamers can serve as a small life preserve amid whatever stress, pain, or fear someone may be facing each day. Further, that the caliber of ingredients I have carefully chosen can compliment the joy and goodness in each day too.

             Beyond the products themselves, I hope that the message and story of What On Earth reaches far greater to anyone who needs to hear that their life is worth living and fighting for, and that there is no mistake or failure ever too great to surmount.

               

What on earth will you conquer next? What on earth so beautiful remains that you have yet to see, feel, experience, and become? What on Earth could ever stop you?

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With all my heart,

Margo Reitz