From a handful of handmade pieces on a kitchen table to three thriving boutiques in Bali and a global online presence, Ananda Soul has been guided by intuition from the start. In this conversation, founder Christina Zipperlen shares how a quiet nudge became a living, breathing jewelry brand rooted in storytelling, community, and care for people and planet.

Ananda’s journey is one of serendipity and surrender, of trusting those inner nudges that say this way even when the path ahead feels uncertain. I was born in Germany, but the story of Ananda Soul begins oceans away, where life insisted I listen to my gut and let it lead.

I was in my mid-20s, living in Hawai‘i with a steady design job, a cat, and a relationship. On paper, it looked perfect. But I’d already started making jewelry by hand, taking classes, doing yoga at dawn. Something in me wanted “another life,” one I couldn’t build on a 50-hour week.

When the 2007–08 economic crash cost my agency its biggest client and my visa hopes, the universe sort of cleared the slate for me.

After a brief stay in Australia, Bali called me back. In 2012, I half-joked, “I think I’ll open a store one day.” Within weeks, I’d signed a lease.

It wasn’t glamorous. I sketched interiors in SketchUp, worked with a carpenter on hand-carved floor inlays, and stood behind the counter myself. Eventually, I hired Putu, my very first team member, who is still part of our Ananda family to this day, so I could design new collections or ride to Celuk to pick up castings.

Absolutely. I’d drive past an empty space, feel electricity in my belly, walk in, sign papers, and tell the team, “I think we’re opening a new store.” Spontaneous and often terrifying, but that quiet yes has been our compass from day one.

Here’s another truth: I’m an artist who owns and runs a business. I take structure seriously: fair pay, maternity leave, THR - because ethics aren’t optional. HR, finance, and rulebooks don’t light me up. People do. Energy does.  I hire by resonance. If being around someone softens my nervous system and expands my creativity, that’s my yes. Skills we can teach; alignment we can’t.

It hasn’t been easy. This business and this brand have grown me up. In the early years, purchase orders terrified me. If the team said we needed four rings in size 6, I’d cut it to two because the number on the page felt like standing on the edge of a cliff. (The team learned to quietly order a few extra because they knew we’d need them.) Now, even as we build a larger office and stretch financially, I trust our feet.

When the pandemic hit, we pivoted overnight from “how do we sell” to “how do we serve,” launching an Adopt-a-Family effort; The whole team packed rice, eggs, onions, and drove into villages.

And internally, I made a vow: I would invest in storytelling and art the way I invest in silver and stones. I brought in collaborators I love, because co-creation lets me do the one thing I must do to keep the brand alive: create.

We launched a podcast that almost never talks about jewelry - and that’s the point. We talk about what makes the art necessary. When we lead with meaning, the right people find us. Some need a yoga nidra to settle their nervous systems more than they need a necklace that day. Both are part of our medicine.`

Values are our spine. Growth brings complexity, but ethics and care keep us grounded. We know when we lose the spark of joy, we’re doing too much. We keep coming back to what really matters: creating beauty with integrity and community.

Intuition. From the first leap to Bali to every collection and hire, it’s the red thread. Listening for what wants to be made and making it with others is how it all began, and how it continues.