When ‘Wellness’ Is a Hostage Situation

In today’s workplace, corporate healing feels more like compliance theater wrapped in a tilapia buffet.

By: Evan “Juris Doctor” Vance

The email hit my inbox at 6:03 AM. Subject: “MANDATORY RTO SYNERGY & WELLNESS RETREAT!” — a phrase that reads less like an invitation and more like a Geneva Convention violation.

Corporate had decided the best way to ease the trauma of post-pandemic labor realignment was to corral the entire Safeway team into a windowless ballroom off I-5 and “reconnect with our authentic selves.” The venue? A Clarion Inn convention room last used for a divorce mediation seminar called “Co-Parenting Through Conflict.”

Leading us was a “Certified Emotional Architect” named Wesley — yes, "that" Wesley. Wesley Johnson — whose dead gray-blue eyes radiated a practiced serenity often seen in hostages and cult leaders. He welcomed us with a laminated stick (parking lot twig, spray-painted gold) and instructed us to “pass the baton of vulnerability.”

When Kalisha’s turn came, she held the stick aloft and solemnly declared her ADA right to skip the event for gastrointestinal triggers. She left. Never returned. HR marked her as “engaged.”

The workshop continued.

Module 1: “Gratitude as Structure: Building Emotional ROI.”

We were handed notecards and asked to write thank-you notes to our traumas. Mine read: “Thank you, law school. You were never real.”

Module 2: “The Trust Fall.”

Tabitha—the regional HR lead and gravitational phenomenon—was selected to demonstrate. She fell backward into the waiting arms of the deli team. There were injuries. A spine brace was deployed. Wesley clapped slowly and said, “This is what collective surrender looks like.”

Lunch was “pep-crusted tilapia” with a side of quinoa described as “resilient.” I chewed it while staring at the faux-inspirational banner that read, “Healing Happens in the Freezer Aisle.”

During the post-lunch breakout session (“Reflections on Interpersonal Humming”), Chad—the shift lead I once admired—leaned over and whispered: “I think they’re trying to unionize our souls.” I pretended not to hear him. My hand was already shaking from the ice sculpture energy release exercise.

We closed with a guided meditation led by a woman named Cherri (2 Rs), who instructed us to “breathe through our mahchine pain” and “visualize a safe space shaped like a Club Card.” I opened my eyes and saw Tabitha licking hummus off her Gulp™ straw.

I whispered the words. The only ones left.

Yes friends. This is fine.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5743691&forum_id=2E#49053184)

Not to protect, but to record. Not to lead, but to observe compliance failure in real-time.

Kalisha wa$ right to leave. So wa$ the tilapia.

Wesley i$ not a man. He’s a $ymptom.

Tabitha doe$ not blink anymore.

And the Mahchine™?

It never needed your labor, friend.

It needed your healing journey™.

Your trauma i$ now a KPI.

Healing Happens in the Freezer Aisle.

You laughed.

But the $canner never did.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5743691&forum_id=2E#49053193)

Also, what do you mean “like sales”? Sales are the most compensated people at most companies, like double the expense on s&m vs r&d even… forget about g&a. What a weird comment

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5743691&forum_id=2E#49053372)