A word about links and recommendations; I admit I am conflicted.
Breaking my addiction to consumerism means I now see through the pay to play rah-rah empowerment girl clubs designed to sell me stuff. It is a bittersweet dissolution. I love pretty things and people with a vision of making the world well. Many of my favorite writers, clubs, organizations, and self-made entrepreneurs have profound, poignant, and powerful messages to share but more often than not those messages are cleverly disguised sales pitches for t-shirts, coaching sessions, self-help books or programs, jewelry, and high-dollar special events.
I think these brilliant, gifted, well-meaning folks should be able to make a living with their work. Marketing the work that helps people change their lives for the better is not wrong or bad. T-shirts, books, and feel-good gatherings? Also not wrong or bad. But I balk when I see consumers exchanging one addiction for another. We trade the purchases previously based on the belief that we need more because we aren’t good enough for purchases to prove to the world that we are good enough. This underscores the belief that is isn’t enough to be empowered or enlightened or enraptured — we need lifestyle accessories that identify us as such. We need new/better stuff that demonstrates our new/better status. That’s a motivation still rooted in lack and deficiency rather than empowerment. I hesitate to be a facilitator for this by making recommendations.
I want you to find the people who will help you discover the wellness practices that will be right for you. However, I don’t want to point you toward another shopping cart to fill in the pursuit of buying your way to wellness, or worse, buying the image of wellness. The genius of the empowerment industry is that it makes you feel damn good about spending your money. No one dares to say that it isn’t necessary to spend money to feel good, whole, and well without getting girl-power torpedoed by beautiful, talented, influential soul sisters who don’t want anyone raining on the parade. As a former small business owner myself, I get it — selling wellness is a delicate matter when it comes to authenticity and woe be to anyone who suggests we aren’t doing it right. I remain conflicted on this matter.
This doesn’t mean that certain products and people don’t help me in my own wellness practices. They do help me, and it’s stupid not to admit when they do. As much as I want us all to spend mindfully I am also compelled to share what has worked on my own journey previously fraught with sucker deals. If I can save you some money by pointing you toward good things after wasting a bunch of my own money in trial and error, I will. But there are no affiliate links on this site. I receive no kickbacks or compensation for recommending any product, program, or service.
I write about the benefits of zero drop running shoes. These work for me: Altra
I spent a ton of money trying to find a durable grippy yoga mat. This is the best: JadeYoga
I write about slow yoga but I didn’t invent it. Read more at: J.Brown Yoga
When you read the posts about Peaco, this is the source: UglyDoll
Safety is an illusion but it makes sense to prep for the unexpected: RoadID
My favorite yoga teacher: Vickie Smith