TOWNANDCOUNTRYMAG.COM | SEPTEMBER 2019 149
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caste system of monks, healers, and guides. At
the top, of course, are Oprah and the Dalai
Lama, but if you can’t get near these supremes,
there are those who have met them, or at
least have taken selfies with them. Gabby
Bernstein, a “spirit junkie” and Lululemon
global yogi, created May Cause Miracles week-
end workshops that “offer an
exciting plan to release fear
and allow gratitude, forgive-
ness, and love to flow through
us without fail.” Motivational
speaker and “unshakable opti-
mist” Marie Forleo offers a
way for you to create success
that speaks to your soul to “get
anything you want.” Their pic-
tures with Oprah are stamped
on their sites like a Consumer
Reports seal of approval.
Amassing avid followers is
much easier for gurus now than in the old
days, when they had to self-publish pamphlets
and advertise in the back of New Dawn mag-
azine. With platforms like Squarespace and
Wix, these newfangled evangelists have easy
ways to provide daily proclamations—and
links in their bios to their five-part webinars.
Gelula compares this divinity deluge to
the rise of next-generation gourmets. “It used
to just be Julia Child or Alain Ducasse, but
eight years ago suddenly anyone could be a
cookbook author. Everyone from highly qual-
ified nutritionists to amateurs with cameras
got into it, and the canon exploded,” she says.
“Something similar is happening in wellness.”
To stand out in this godliness glut, it helps
if you are really hot. Take meditation teacher
Light Watkins or Sakara Life founders Whit-
ney Tingle and Danielle Duboise—all for-
mer models—or hunky Hillsong pastor Carl
Lentz, who likes to hang out shirtless with
his pal Justin Bieber. Shaman Durek, the boy-
friend of Norwegian princess Martha Lou-
ise, used to be a model before he pivoted
to healer and “spirit-hacker.” Their content-
ment humblebrags on social media, the Runic
scripts of our time, telegraph piety and dou-
ble as a recruitment tool the way word-of-
mouth testimonials once drew stressed
suburbanites to EST. The difference is
that these hyperconnected soothsayers
can’t be automatically labeled hucksters.
“That’s the thing,” Larocca says.
“These people are genuine. There is
an unbelievable amount of sincerity
out there.” Case in point:
Best-selling author Mari-
anne Williamson, a major
progenitor of self-help cul-
ture, is running for president.
PEAK SELF-CARE?
Still, the risk for people reared
on quick-fix solutions is that
they may not be reaching deep
enough. One ayahuasca trip is
no panacea for serious mental
health issues, or even anxiety.
“There’s nothing wrong with
wellness,” says Sebene Selassie, meditation
teacher and author of the upcoming book
Born to Belong. “It’s so important and so nec-
essary right now. But when is wellness real
depth and when is it spackle? The cracks start
showing quickly.”
The David Lynch Foundation has been
promoting the benefits of Transcendental
Meditation for nearly 15 years, and, thanks
to a $2.4 million grant from the U.S. Depart-
ment of Defense, it has the research to prove
that TM can help veterans with post-traumatic
stress disorder cope.
“Everybody’s been jumping on the band-
wagon, and a lot of it is baloney,” says the orga-
nization’s CEO Bob Roth. “There is no magic
pill from Big Pharma to prevent stress and
trauma, although there are tons of medica-
tions for managing it. They just don’t get to
the ‘tumor’ of stress. Now, 50 years later, we
are getting close to finding reasonable
ways to deal with it, and it’s the ancient
meditation practices that will stand tall.”
While affirmation culture may just
be a natural byproduct of privilege pea-
cocking, it could be a necessary phase in
filtering the true from the trendy.
“Everybody knows you have do the
work to feel better,” Gelula says. “And a
lot of people try something lighter before
they go deeper. Maybe wellness is a gateway
to a greater spirituality.”
That’s perhaps the most important insight
that our modern, self-promoting search for a
higher power offers. Everyone wants divine
intervention; it’s just that some are willing to
pay anything to try to get close to it. Celebri-
ties: They’re desperate, just like us.
THE GOSPEL
ACCORDING
TO KANYE
Hollywood’s hottest ticket is the
cleric of Calabasas.
Their
contentment
humblebrags
on social
media are the
Runic scripts
of our time.”
Elon Musk
@elonmusk
Just kept working on my crown chakra and
boom! Don't let anyone tell you magic isn't
real. Warning, EXTREMELY powerful.
Jack
@jack
I did my meditation at Dhamma Mahimã
in Pyin Oo Lwin. This is my room. Basic.
During the 10 days: no devices, reading,
writing, physical excercise, music, intoxi-
cants, meat, talking, or even eye contact
with others. It’s free: everything is given to
meditators by charity.
Teyana Taylor
at Sunday
Service
The Oscars red carpet is for posers,
the Met Gala for peacocks. If you
want a golden key to celebrity
mecca, kumbaya at Kanye West’s
Sunday Service. In less than a year
the invite-only gospel gathering
has become de rigueur for pop and
movie stars and the swamis who
cater to them—Tyler the Creator,
Sia, Busy Philipps, Shia LaBeouf, and
music mogul Rick Rubin are among
the disciples. “There’s no praying,”
Kim Kardashian West has said. “It’s
just music, and it’s just a feeling.”
Maybe, but the chosen few report-
edly must sign NDAs and avoid
knocking into North West while she
dances around the family’s Cala-
basas compound. Whether you get
saved or just network with other vir-
tuous A-listers, Sunday Service is
a church for our times: ambitious,
commercial, and soaked in a cult of
personality. When he mounted the
pastoral at Coachella, our Yeezus
sold socks for $50 and sweatshirts
for $224. Later, one clairvoyant saw
the future in selling chunks of grass
from the field for $30 on eBay.