Every day I put on that vest, grabbed my badge, and scanned into a building where fluorescent lights, sirens, and conveyor belts screamed louder than my own voice ever could.
I worked for a large corporation—the kind with meetings about quarterly profits, where success was measured in margins and market share, never in meaning. I was good at my job.
I was actually really good at my job.
I looked the part. Went above and beyond. Saved the company millions.
But inside, something was withering. Every part of me was dying.
Day after day, I watched decisions being made in boardrooms that prioritized extraction over restoration. Numbers over people. Resources pulled from the earth with no thought of replenishment. A company that claimed to be “Earth’s best friend,” yet everywhere I looked there were boxes upon boxes—boxes inside of boxes—plastic wrapped in more plastic. So much waste that I’m honestly surprised there are still trees left on this planet.
Packaging designed for convenience, not conscience.
Supply chains stretched across oceans, leaving trails of waste behind them.
I saw the numbers—the tons of plastic, the carbon footprints, the so-called “acceptable losses” that were actually irreplaceable pieces of our planet. And I was complicit.
Each day I showed up, I felt a little hollower.
The smile was forced. The stress was heavy.
I hated that job with my soul.
Corporate speak became a language I no longer recognized as my own.
I was dying incrementally—not dramatically, but quietly. In the glass of conference rooms, office hallways, restroom mirrors, I kept wondering who I’d become.
My soul was being drained by the very system I was helping to perpetuate, and the earth was being depleted right alongside me.
I watched thousands of dollars’ worth of perfectly usable materials get thrown away—furniture, food, clothing, shoes—things that could have been donated to families in need. But if it didn’t have the right postage or fit the system, it went straight into the trash.
The breaking point wasn’t dramatic. It was cumulative.
One too many reminders that we were replaceable—and so was the earth, even though the company told the world otherwise.
“Sustainable growth” that meant nothing sustainable at all.
It was another environmental impact report quietly buried. Another reminder that profit mattered more than people. That the workers straining their bodies every day were disposable. That the planet was just another resource to be consumed.
So, as I walked out the door, I honestly had a sigh of relief and a bit of a smile, I had done the right thing said the right thing after the right way there was nothing that I would’ve changed.
on my drive home, I started thinking about my life and how much of it was being wasted and what I could do to change not just myself into the person that I should recognize, but how I can help the Earth and it’s people become more connected, which is exactly what I felt like I was missing, it was also a part of me that I wanted to get back.
The day I left, I went home, sat on my couch, designed a business plan, and went straight to work—making soaps, teas, lotions, incense, toothpaste, deodorant, laundry soap, conditioner. Building something rooted in care, not extraction.
I wanted to create a business that respected the environment and the people who used its products.
I turned back toward the earth. As an artist and a person who loves beauty, this would be the perfect opportunity for me to express creativity and love at the same time.
I started with my hands. With plants and botanicals used for centuries in rituals of intention and care. I learned small-batch creation. Ethical sourcing. How business could be different.
That every bar of soap, every tea blend, could be an act of reciprocity.
The earth provides—and we protect.
Not a tagline. A covenant.
Right now, MUDSlabs is at its beginning.
We are in our launch phase—intentionally small, intentionally focused.
Our current offerings are minimal by design, while many other products are already in production: lotions, lip balms, deodorant, laundry detergent, and more. These formulations are being tested, processed, cured, and refined with care. Nothing is rushed. Nothing is released until it aligns with our values.
We believe conscious creation takes time.
Today, instead of depleting, I create with reverence.
Instead of extraction, I practice intention.
Each ritual soap is handcrafted in small batches, so nothing is wasted. Each tea blend—Vision & Intuition, Protection & Grounding, Calm & Clarity, Energy & Focus—is formulated with purpose, because wellness isn’t just personal. It’s planetary.
It was fantastic to see that that woman who was connected to nature, that woman who loved plants and trees, rivers and oceans, valleys, and meadows still exists in me—
She’s no longer dying inside corporate walls.
She’s alive, hands covered in botanical oils, creating products that invite others into earth-connected rituals.
This is MUDSlabs.
Born from corporate disillusionment.
Rooted in the belief that business can be a force for protection, not depletion.
The earth provides.
And now, finally, I protect.
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