The phone vibrated, a gentle, insistent hum against my thigh, cutting through the faint clatter of keys from the next cubicle over. Not the one I was on, obviously. That had been a firm, metallic *thud* as it hit the desk, right after my thumb slipped, or maybe didn’t slip, but just… decided. This was different. This was a polite, automated nudge from “[email protected],” reminding me about the ‘Mindful Moment Meditation’ happening in ten minutes. My calendar, a digital battlefield, was already bleeding red. Two “urgent” project check-ins, scheduled simultaneously, during that exact ten minutes. One for “Project Phoenix 9,” the other for “Initiative Delta 9.”
The contradiction tasted like old coffee, bitter and cold. Here I was, drowning in deliverables, my inbox a predatory beast with 49 unread messages, and the solution offered was… to close my eyes? To *breathe*? It’s not just insulting; it’s an active dismissal of the very real pressures that make us need mindfulness in the first place. This, I’ve come to understand, is the insidious illusion of corporate wellness.
I remember Reese, a brilliant dyslexia intervention specialist I met once at a rather dull corporate retreat – a retreat that also promised “wellness breaks” between strategy sessions. Reese
