The hook. This is the starting point of any story. For this exercise, it comes in a tidal wave of blogs, apps, and articles that tout the notion that ‘wellness,’ is a destination where a bounty of health and beauty awaits. Here comes our protagonist, let’s call her Linda. Linda is intrigued. She clicks on some articles and is eventually led to an Instagram influencer with latex-like skin and jointless limbs, who is doing a salutation pose atop a mountain, wearing a beatific smile. And there it is—a sudden yearning to be different. Better. She’s hooked.
The Retreat
Pinch point 1. This is when the protagonist sets out on her journey. Linda admits to herself that she’s been unhappy for sometime, despite her loving husband and comfortable lifestyle. It’s a vague, loose unhappiness, not something she can quite pin down. Maybe it’s because time is moving too quickly or that those around her seem to be more engaged with life (that Instagrammer certainly is). She also has wrinkles and needs to lose weight. She sometimes experiences terrible gas pains. It couldn’t be any clearer how unwell she really is. Linda rushes out to purchase flashy Lycra and nearly everything that promises to make her feel and look better. She can afford to. She stocks up on detox teas, Himalayan salt lamps and healing crystals. She downloads a mindfulness app to work towards endless gratitude and schedules a bowel irrigation treatment.
Plot point I. Pressure is applied. An antagonist is introduced, except the antagonist is Linda and her own failure to achieve a quiet mind. The detox tea is more uncomfortable than she could have imagined. It’s discovered that the Himalayan salt lamp is outfitted with an ordinary light blub. Mindful dishwashing is frustratingly elusive. The Yoni egg lodged in her vagina doesn’t feel right. She fled from the bowel irrigation waiting room. Her husband has taken to calling her a narcissist and refuses to take photos of her in meditative thought beside bodies of water. He insists that she did not develop several food allergies overnight and that one’s liver accomplishes all the necessary detox for the human body. Linda is more anxious than ever.
Midpoint. Our protagonist moves from reaction to action. Linda determines she must do something to stop the antagonist. She tosses out everything with gluten in her home. She orders more wellness accoutrements online. She finally goes through with the bowel irrigation appointment and books a ten-day silent retreat, where she’s certain she’ll be able to nail down that gratitude thing completely. Wellness is on the horizon and she will soon look twenty years younger.
Pinch point II. More pressure is applied. A story must take a dive. Linda returns home from her silent retreat to discover her husband has moved out, leaving only a note stating that she is not vibrationally superior to everyone around her and that he deeply resented the Yoni egg. She has lost everything, including ten pounds, which should make her happy, but she has no one to show it off to. She’s alienated her best friend by pointing out that her failing health was probably due to her negative thinking. Her daughter stopped speaking to her because Linda left her in the lurch after deciding that babysitting her granddaughter just wasn’t following her bliss.
Plot point II. All of the vague unhappiness has sharpened into laser-focus. Linda desperately misses her family and best friend. She’s never felt sadder. She’s physically sick with grief and immediately tosses away everything she purchased that was meant to excise feelings of inadequacy. Linda sets off to find her husband and beg for his forgiveness. Before putting her car into gear, she remembers to delete the mindfulness app on her phone. Right then, Linda catches a glimpse of herself in the darkened screen. She looks up into the rear view mirror. God, she so looks so good. Her phone pings with an offer for a retreat in Peru run by a guru promising ultimate transformation.
Linda suns herself on her yoga mat. Her mind, finally a swirl of white-noise.
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