In a historic act of bipartisan synergy, Congress this week unveiled the "Self-Care Caucus," a cross-party coalition dedicated to "healing the emotional trauma inflicted on lawmakers by the 24/7 news cycle, the American public, and occasionally our own votes."
The caucus, co-chaired by a Republican who calls yoga "spiritual socialism" and a Democrat who live-tweets her sound baths, announced a sweeping package of wellness initiatives designed to address what they describe as Washington’s "mental health crisis of accountability."
"We’ve tried infrastructure, we’ve tried health care, we’ve even tried regulating social media for like, three minutes," said one senior senator while misting her face with rose quartz-infused hydrosol. "Nothing has worked. It’s time we focus on what truly matters: our personal journeys."
According to the 327-page draft bill, tentatively titled the Legislative Emotional Resilience and Chakra Alignment Act of 2025, the federal government will fund a series of self-care interventions for stressed lawmakers, including:
- Quarterly bipartisan ayahuasca retreats in Sedona "to process the collective trauma of C-SPAN clips"
- On-site Reiki practitioners in the Capitol Rotunda, available 24/7 during government shutdowns
- A "Safe Space Sauna" where staffers can gently inform their bosses what people actually think of them
- Guided forgiveness meditations specifically targeted at forgiving major corporate donors for making them vote for things people hate
"America needs a Congress that is centered," said one House member, arranging a semicircle of amethyst around his nameplate. "You can’t expect us to regulate Big Tech or deal with climate change if our root chakras are blocked by your constant complaining about rent and healthcare."
The initiative drew inspiration from a recent wellness trend in corporate America, in which companies respond to worker burnout not with higher pay or reasonable hours, but with apps that send push notifications reminding employees to breathe between back-to-back Zooms. "We looked at what Silicon Valley was doing and thought, what if we did that, but less effective?" a Senate aide explained, citing a recent Alphabet earnings call and Meta’s own pivot to a more immersive, inescapable reality experience (covered extensively by outlets like The Verge and Reuters in 2023).
Under the proposed legislation, every House office will receive:
- A diffuser that puffs out a calming essential oil blend called "Gridlock & Geranium"
- Access to a government-subsidized mindfulness app that plays soothing ocean sounds over the sound of lobbyists dictating bill text
- One (1) certified life coach to help members reconcile their voting record with the inspirational quotes they post on Instagram
Critics have pointed out that the bill sets aside nearly $1.2 billion for "spiritual consultants" to help lawmakers "manifest bipartisan outcomes." According to Section 4(b), manifestation specialists will be empowered to lead daily intention circles in committee rooms, beginning each session with affirmations like:
"I am worthy of reelection even if I have not passed a bill in three terms."
"I release the burden of reading legislation before voting."
"I call in abundance, but specifically in the form of PAC money."
When asked whether these interventions would extend to the millions of Americans struggling with medical debt, housing insecurity, and stagnant wages, a spokesperson for the caucus expressed sympathy.
"We hear your pain," she said, adjusting her noise-cancelling headphones. "And we’re exploring the possibility of a pilot program that would let everyday Americans subscribe to our legislative journey as a podcast. Healing starts with feeling… seen."
Public reaction has been mixed. Some voters expressed confusion over why their representatives require luxury wellness retreats when they already receive comprehensive healthcare and salaries more than three times the national median. Others, having watched several years of hearings where lawmakers asked tech CEOs how to print an email, suggested they support anything that might encourage members of Congress to sit quietly and breathe for a few minutes.
"If a sound bath can stop my congressman from posting another 27-tweet thread about how TikTok is a Chinese plot to steal our children’s attention spans, I’m in," said one exhausted constituent, adding that she herself manages stress with a $7 grocery store sheet mask and the occasional cry in her car.
In response to preliminary backlash, caucus members hastened to clarify that no, this is not a vacation.
"This will be very hard work," insisted one senator, describing a "deeply vulnerable" workshop titled Envisioning A World Where The Filibuster Doesn’t Exist While Knowing You’ll Never Actually Change It. "We’ll be excavating our shame, our fears, and our fundraising strategies."
The bill also mandates a new, nonpartisan position: Chief Wellness Whip. Unlike traditional party whips, whose job is to corral votes, the Wellness Whip will focus on "boundary setting" and "emotional logistics." Their responsibilities will include:
- Reminding lawmakers they are allowed to say "no" to cable news hits after midnight
- Leading morning journaling prompts such as "What if I passed a bill that helped literally anyone?"
- Distributing artisanal herbal teas labeled "Filibuster Fennel" and "Shutdown Chamomile" during tense negotiations
"Is this performative? Absolutely," said one anonymous staffer, speaking on background because he was not authorized to undermine the carefully curated brand of authenticity. "But it polls great with suburban voters who think the main problem with America is people not drinking enough water and using their gratitude journals."
Meanwhile, several younger members of Congress have proposed amendments that would extend wellness resources to staffers who routinely work 80-hour weeks for salaries that qualify them for the very social services their bosses keep cutting. These amendments were quickly tabled on the grounds that "we can’t take on everything at once" and "healing is a journey, not a budget priority."
Outside observers have noted that the Self-Care Caucus may be a response to a broader cultural shift in which self-care has become both lifestyle brand and political shield. "We’ve entered an era where ‘I’m protecting my energy’ is used to justify everything from ghosting your friends to ignoring climate reports," said one political analyst, referencing the growing overlap of wellness influencers and political commentary on platforms like Instagram and TikTok. "It was only a matter of time before Congress discovered the notes app apology and the chakra chart."
In a particularly bold move, the caucus is considering a pilot experiment during the next major crisis: instead of convening an emergency session, lawmakers will collectively log off, drink electrolyte water, and "hold the nation in loving awareness" for 48 hours. "Scarcity mindset is over," a draft memo reads. "We refuse to be available for every democracy-threatening event. That’s codependent behavior."
Asked whether voters might interpret this as abandonment, one member offered what she called a "high-vibration reframe":
"We’re not abandoning our constituents. We’re inviting them into their own power. Have they
Analysts predict the Self-Care Caucus will pass easily, as it requires no sacrifice from donors and can be summarized in campaign ads with phrases like "mental health," "burnout," and "showing up for ourselves." The Congressional Budget Office has not yet scored the bill, but early estimates suggest that the cost of lawmakers’ wellness could fund robust mental health care for millions of Americans—or one large, extremely vibey retreat center with cold plunges and an on-site SoulCycle.
Still, some optimists insist the movement could have unintended positive consequences. "Once they experience what it feels like to actually process their feelings, who knows?" mused one therapist contracted to lead a workshop titled Shadow Work For People Who Have Never Been Told No. "Maybe they’ll recognize collective anxiety as something that can’t be fixed with apps and scented candles. Maybe they’ll realize that structural problems require structural solutions."
She paused, then laughed. "Or they’ll just ask for a raise and a bigger meditation dome. But I’m manifesting."