The dark side of wellness


photo by @alexparkermedia

photo by @alexparkermedia


If only I took beautiful baths every night with flower petals and candles... 

If only I found the right adaptogen and supplement regimen...

If only I drank enough green juice or bone broth or spring water...

If only I did enough yoga and breathwork…

If only I could sync my life and goals to the lunar cycle...

If I only I resolved my childhood trauma along with that inherited from my parents…

If only my partner would stare deep into my eyes while I shared my greatest fears…

Then, I would be happy and healthy and free. Then I would wake up every morning feeling light and energized and loving. At least that’s what the wellness movement seemed to promise...always along with a never-ending list of tools, tricks, potions, and programs to get me there. 

This was an exhausting and expensive way to live. I did all the programs, saw the best functional medicine doctors, and paid coaches and “healers” to tell me how to live my life. I went to herbalism school then yoga teacher training then nutrition school so that I could become my own healer (which was the ultimate path, I was told). I sprouted my nuts, hunted my meat, and grew my own vegetables. 

Through this education and self-exploration, I did find relief from lifelong anxiety, depression, and gut issues. I enjoyed most of these pursuits and felt really great sometimes. I was able to taper from psychiatric drugs and pursue physical and mental challenges with new found energy.  

However, I also felt obsessed over my next meal or protocol. I stopped reading fiction books because I was always reading about health. My writing was reduced to a food journal and my art to cooking. These things are inherently beneficial and definitely have a place, but they can easily distract you from real life. After years of this, I realized that I was focusing so much of my time on trying to feel even better that I had neglected the activities and people I wanted to show up for in the first place. 


Unknowingly, I also started to feel condescending of others who were not willing to make similar diet and lifestyle changes. Instead of using my newfound energy and mental clarity for empathy, I often felt entitlement and judgement. 

I thought about the people I respected most - my heroes and mentors. All of them maintained good health, but none of them let the pursuit of health become their purpose. Instead, they focused on loving others, creating impactful work, and seeking meaningful experiences. I realized I did not want to sacrifice my life in search for the next thing that was going to finally make me whole. 

So, just this year, I started to shed the fragile identity I had built up as a wellness-seeker. 

I started to let go of the rigid diet and routines - releasing the fear that I might just fall apart. I continued to cook healthy food, move my body, and practice mindfulness every day. But if I wanted to skip my morning meditation or eat some grains or stay up later, I did. If I wanted a sip of coffee or alcohol, I took one. If I wanted to eat or stay on my phone past 8pm, I did.


I did not fall apart; in fact, I found myself connecting with others on a deeper level because I was not so caught up in my head about being “perfect.” If my energy or digestion got a little off, I did not immediately set up an appointment with a doctor or start searching for a new protocol. 

I quickly realized that meditation and yoga and fancy detox protocols do not make us better humans. If they help you show up for yourself and others in a fuller way, great. But if you are attached to rigid routines or practices, take a look at why exactly you are doing them. Do you really enjoy them or are they just distractions that make you feel good about yourself? Most of us have some that fall into both categories. 

When I asked myself this question, I realized I don’t enjoy indoor yoga or fitness classes. I like morning meditation and dancing in my kitchen and stretching in the sunshine after a run. 

I realized that I don’t like how certain adaptogens taste or provide noticable benefit for me. I do like good matcha and dark chocolate.

I realized that I don’t care about the lunar cycle or astrology but do like tuning into the cycles of my own body. 

I realized that smudging my house gives me a headache, but I love opening the windows during the day and turning the wi-fi off at night. 

I realized that I do enjoy doing coffee enemas but also like painting my toenails and getting highlights in my hair once a year - even if those things are “toxic.” 

I realized that turmeric doesn’t taste good on everything. 

I realized that I was missing the whole point. 


well·ness

/ˈwelnəs/

noun: the state of being in good health especially as an actively sought goal

 

health

/helTH/

noun: the condition of being sound in body, mind, or spirit

 


Considering these definitions by the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, perhaps health and wellness are incompatible. Can we be sound in body, mind, and spirit if we are constantly seeking to be different and better in some way? For many, the modern wellness movement is not leading to peace but rather a perpetual cycle of wanting more, fueled by consumerism and self-proclaimed gurus. True health is only achieved when you are satisfied with your current state of mind, body and spirit - which is at odds with the active seeking of more associated with wellness.


While I continue to prioritize a diet and lifestyle that make me feel good, I’m not nearly as attached to specific external forces providing a certain outcome. Instead, I eat fresh food and move my body out of enjoyment. For me, the point of feeling good is to live this human life to the fullest - and not perfect health or enlightenment. So if I’m worried about my next meal instead of the conversation I’m having with my sister, I missed out. If I don’t enjoy the end of a great movie because I’m too worried about the blue light affecting my sleep, I miss out. If I end up spending most of my time alone because I am so worried about bettering myself, I miss out. 

If our purpose is only to feel good, then we are missing out on the human experience. We are not creating anything worthwhile or loving fully because we are always just managing our states of being.

So I’ve dropped the never-ending wellness pursuit. Now, more than ever, I really am happy, healthy and - most of all - free.