at the corner of zen and bullshit

Coming off my recent cleanse, and feeling oh so smug in all my re-booted and detoxified glory, I considered taking a trip to Whole Foods to restock my fridge and pantry with goodies of the organic and healthy variety.

What I love about Whole Foods is also what I hate about them. It’s the distinct air of general snootiness, with a soupçon of disdain, that hits you the moment you walk through those sliding glass doors.

It’s where granola-fed and antiperspirant-free employees mingle with toe shoe-shod and Chakra-aligned, BMW-driving, consumers.

Source: sportshoes.com

I love both groups in equal measure. Every baguette-eschewing, PBA-eliminating, meat-shunning one of them.

Namaste to one and all.

Several months ago I read a Huffington Post article, by Kelly MacLean, about her own traumatic (for her) and hilarious (for us) Whole Foods experience. Every word resonated with me. She captured the very essence of my love/hate relationship with this place.

Mr. Enthusiasm came into the room to investigate what was going on when he heard me snorting, wheezing and crying with laughter.

I tried to read select passages to him, but kept hyperventilating in the process.

I finally stopped when I noticed I was actually wetting myself.

There is so much gold in her 1,000+ words, but one of my favourite excerpts is:

“Next I see the gluten-free section filled with crackers and bread made from various wheat-substitutes such as cardboard and sawdust. I skip this aisle because I’m not rich enough to have dietary restrictions. Ever notice that you don’t meet poor people with special diet needs? A gluten intolerant house cleaner? A cab driver with Candida?

Candida is what I call a rich, white person problem. You know you’ve really made it in this world when you get Candida. My personal theory is that Candida is something you get from too much hot yoga. All I’m saying is if I were a yeast, I would want to live in your yoga pants.”

Word.

Look, I am just as open to embracing all things healthy as the next gal. But I can also spot nonsense when I see it [including my own lemming-like adoption of many ridiculous fads and crazes].

I’m willing to own those mistakes and laugh at myself for buying into all the bluster and bullshit.

To those blowhards who actually believe their own hubris, I offer a gift: a video from our friends at Funny or Die. Perhaps it’ll inspire them to take it down a notch.

Namaste.

Keep moving,

xoxo nancy