Rachel Elam
Rachel Elam

HELLO

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I HELP PEOPLE AND BRANDS TELL THEIR STORIES

 
 
 
 
 
 
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Working Together

As the founder of Bright Light Portfolio, Rachel Elam brings 18+ years of experience to help people and brands bring ideas to life. An acclaimed writer, Rachel’s work has appeared in New York Magazine and American Writers Review, and received international recognition from Write Toscana, Cannes Lions International Festival of Creativity, and more. More on LinkedIn.

Publications

PARTNERSHIPS

 
 

WORKSHOPS

Signature Program Design | Creative Writing 1:1 & Groups | Nonprofit Board Facilitation | Philanthropic Legacy Letters

 
 
 

Testimonals

“Rachel is inspirational: her passion for this space is contagious, and she has inspired Unilever and captured their imagination. She has been a visionary partner to Facebook as a whole as we forge new territory and imagine what real brand partnerships could look like across Social Impact.”
— KAte b.
“Rachel is simply one of the best, brightest, and most professional colleagues that I’ve had the pleasure of working with in my 26 year career. Clients adore her, colleagues flock to her. Her demeanor, attitude and thoroughness are legendary.”
— Bob G.
“Thanks Rachel for leading and launching the well-being initiative across Community & Impact Partnerships at Facebook. Our team needs leaders to bridge this important conversation and help the team live healthier, happier lives!
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— Katya K.
“I’ve tried meditation apps in the past and they just haven’t worked well for me – but I look forward to Rachel’s sessions every week and always leave feeling more relaxed, centered, and less tense then when I walked in.
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— Dana S.
“A true thought leader, Rachel brings light into the world. Honest, pure hearted, and full of wisdom, she inspires the mind and uplifts the spirit. Truly a blessing.”
— Brandon R.
“I cannot thank Rachel enough for leading a guided meditation. I have already received countless messages saying how fantastic it was.”
— Lindsey H.
 
 
Summer was alright, but it’s time for a new season. 🍃…thank you to the magical, talented 📸 @cristinafisher_ for this first photo⚡️🔮
Summer was alright, but it’s time for a new season. 🍃…thank you to the magical, talented 📸 @cristinafisher_ for this first photo⚡️🔮
It’s cool to notice the flowers in bloom. 🌻
It’s cool to notice the flowers in bloom. 🌻
May your new year be filled with light. 💫🌟🌙 I’m both obsessed with change and terrified of it. I’d be lost without friendship. ☺️🙏
May your new year be filled with light. 💫🌟🌙 I’m both obsessed with change and terrified of it. I’d be lost without friendship. ☺️🙏
Not pictured: insomnia, coffee, intermittent numbness, more coffee, self-doubt, cutting back on caffeine, reaching for certainty, attempting to write my way through stuckness toward clarity, and of course, the moments in between.
Not pictured: insomnia, coffee, intermittent numbness, more coffee, self-doubt, cutting back on caffeine, reaching for certainty, attempting to write my way through stuckness toward clarity, and of course, the moments in between.
Page one // a new direction.
Page one // a new direction.
The closest I’ve come to truth lately is in fiction. 🫶 @benningtonwritingseminars 🤗 What a ride the last two years have been. @ rachelelam.com
The closest I’ve come to truth lately is in fiction. 🫶 @benningtonwritingseminars 🤗 What a ride the last two years have been. @ rachelelam.com
So I leaned over the edge of the cliff, waiting for the sea to catch me.
So I leaned over the edge of the cliff, waiting for the sea to catch me.
This is my cousin Aviv and her friend Noya. Aviv, who is like my sister, embodies the meaning of her name: Spring, as she gives and blooms from the heart. In addition to being a talented musician and a social worker in the IDF, she has spent the last 18 days of war worrying about everyone else. Attending funerals and shivas for people who have no family left. Baking cookies for grieving families. And more. On our most recent phone call, she was most worried how the war in Israel was impacting us in the states, asking how SHE could help US. Her friend Noya’s cousin, Mia, is missing. Mia is an artist. Mia is one of two hundred captives still missing as an act of hatred, as a way to taunt Israel into action. Amid Noya’s family paralysis of waiting, Hamas released a video of Mia, shot and severely injured, pleading to be released and returned home to her family. On the 18th day of a war against hatred, may we listen to Aviv and Noya’s beautiful voices as a much needed salve for our broken hearts. In the Jewish tradition, the number 18, חי “chai” means life. It’s a way to wish blessings and good luck. We all need blessings and good luck. Aviv and Noya are singing a song by @jb_band called איך אפשר. It’s a song about love: “How’s it possible not to fall in love with you How’s it possible not to fall in love How come everyone else in this world aren’t in love with you as well How’s it possible not to fall in love.” How is possible that the captives, from babies to Holocaust survivors, are still missing? How is it possible not to mourn the loss of thousands of innocent civilians, victim to the reign of Hamas? Now, their lives and homes have also been destroyed because of the Hamas’ strategy to kidnap as bait for war after the violent massacre. Now, with the scale of Hamas tunnels underground, under innocent Palestinians homes, under the shields of people who don’t deserve to die, which is why Israel called for an evacuation, we witness a scale of strive. Where are the hostages? Where is Hamas? How can we find strength in the collective fear? How can music heal and hold us as we mourn the loss? How can we to return to love when we need it most?
I remember the gumball machine and the plastic table where we’d eat freshly picked figs. Dod Nissim smoking a cigar and the raspy voice of Doda Evelyn. The memories aren’t only from the Summer of 1988, but from a shattered, once-colorful
I remember the gumball machine and the plastic table where we’d eat freshly picked figs. Dod Nissim smoking a cigar and the raspy voice of Doda Evelyn. The memories aren’t only from the Summer of 1988, but from a shattered, once-colorful mosaic that I’m trying to piece back together. I remember the flour-coated table where we rolled out dough to bake pitot. Neighbors at the moshav coming over, unannounced, to play shesh besh. And over Passover, my Sephardic family tossed brown eggs across the table and sang a Seder of songs with laughter and percussion. A holiday that marks the exodus of the Jews from slavery in Egypt. A pursuit of freedom. A path toward redemption. Right now, it feels as if our world is enslaved by polarities: right vs. wrong, mine vs. yours, good vs. evil. In the Summer of 1988, I sat on this tractor with my brother, on a moshav where a close knit community anchored their livelihood on harmony and respect. My mind is overwrought with questions. My heart, aching for answers. Where did we go wrong as humanity? How can we explain prejudice and misunderstanding? How many more deaths will it take until this nightmare of a war will come to an end?
This is my Aunt Orly at the Baha’i Gardens in Haifa. For followers of the Bahá’í Faith, the place represents holy pilgrimage, but its magnificence and message extends to people of all faiths and backgrounds. During period o
This is my Aunt Orly at the Baha’i Gardens in Haifa. For followers of the Bahá’í Faith, the place represents holy pilgrimage, but its magnificence and message extends to people of all faiths and backgrounds. During period of intense violence in Iran in 1819, the Báb announced Himself as a prophet to usher in peace. The Baha’i forbid holy war (jihad) and promote equality of women and education for all. The Báb was declared a heretic and his followers were tortured and killed. He was kidnapped and imprisoned for years before being publicly executed in the center of his town. As punishment for mobilizing people toward equanimity, his death was witnessed and reported on by western press and the world. Before and after we toured the Gardens, my Aunt Orly took us to her favourite Turkish coffee roaster. We popped in and out of some of the vintage shops she loves. We walked around the windy cobblestone roads of Haifa, a city where Arabs and Jews live the same apartment buildings as neighbors and friends without turmoil. We ate at the falafel shop across from a mosaic with doves, a universe voice of peace. My Aunt has three doves tattooed to keep her three children close to her heart. Her daughter, a social worker in the army who supports soldiers from troubled backgrounds; one son who left university last Saturday to head to the front lines of war and another who volunteers at hospitals while he stands by for a call. In the reality of irrevocable devastation, may we turn to the survivors of the Baha’i faith and their allied friends, who made sure the message of peace could be passed on. The Báb was never allowed a proper burial. His remains were dumped and guarded by soldiers to prevent reclaiming them. But somehow, his followers secretly rescued and then hid remains for another fifty years until they could be brought to the Holy Land and buried on Mount Carmel. What began as a simple stone headstone evolved into a stunning Shrine with immaculate, masterfully-tended Gardens, a destination of hope for communities, a UNESCO spot. In this face of tragedy, war, and fear, may we do our best to stand together. May we imagine the possibility of peace to come. 🕊️
Summer was alright, but it’s time for a new season. 🍃…thank you to the magical, talented 📸 @cristinafisher_ for this first photo⚡️🔮 It’s cool to notice the flowers in bloom. 🌻 May your new year be filled with light. 💫🌟🌙 I’m both obsessed with change and terrified of it. I’d be lost without friendship. ☺️🙏 Not pictured: insomnia, coffee, intermittent numbness, more coffee, self-doubt, cutting back on caffeine, reaching for certainty, attempting to write my way through stuckness toward clarity, and of course, the moments in between. Page one // a new direction. The closest I’ve come to truth lately is in fiction. 🫶 @benningtonwritingseminars 🤗 What a ride the last two years have been. @ rachelelam.com So I leaned over the edge of the cliff, waiting for the sea to catch me.
This is my cousin Aviv and her friend Noya. Aviv, who is like my sister, embodies the meaning of her name: Spring, as she gives and blooms from the heart. In addition to being a talented musician and a social worker in the IDF, she has spent the last
I remember the gumball machine and the plastic table where we’d eat freshly picked figs. Dod Nissim smoking a cigar and the raspy voice of Doda Evelyn. The memories aren’t only from the Summer of 1988, but from a shattered, once-colorful This is my Aunt Orly at the Baha’i Gardens in Haifa. For followers of the Bahá’í Faith, the place represents holy pilgrimage, but its magnificence and message extends to people of all faiths and backgrounds. During period o