Today was a very successful day’s fishing for the bear, she caught and ate the fattest salmon ever.
After a big meal she loves nothing more than stretching out in a nice sunny spot on the soft grass and having a relaxing nap. In Autumn she eats a lot, fattening up in readiness for her longest snooze of the year. Retreating into her cave she builds up bedding with grasses, moss, pine needles and conifer branches, then nestles down comfy, warm and snug, hibernating until spring the following year. Just like she rises with the sunlight, she rests in winter, following the seasons and the cycles of nature.
Now of course, we can light up the dark and heat up the cold, meaning we can continue to eat, work and play around the clock and throughout the seasons. Compared to our modern day lives, the bear lives at a very sloth-like pace, constrained by biology and her environment. We might look pitifully at the bear, with her paltry ability to defy and master her environment. We don’t need to stop, we don’t need to rest, we can turn on the light and heat, and have food delivered to our comfy sofa at the click of a button. We have gone beyond the limitations of our bodies and environment and evolved into a far superior species.
Imagine Lucius Flavius, a wealthy Roman citizen transported from their Tuscan villa at the peak of the Roman Empire to any typical city in the developed world in 2026. If they were invited into an average home they might initially be struck by the level of comfort and luxury: memory foam mattress, running hot water, chilled and frozen food, a microwave, TV, electric lighting and heating, the list goes on. What we might consider the essentials would surpass the ancient conveniences of even the wealthiest Roman citizen. Taking a look at our farms during harvest, his eyes might widen, when instead of a hundred bent-backed labourers, a sole farmer sits in a combine harvester hoovering up whole fields of wheat. His head might start to spin at how all the extra time for leisure could be spent. It is here that his initial amazement turns to disappointment or even disgust.
To Lucius, the majority of our frenetic lives would in many ways look quite pitiful. To him the bear may have a much closer grasp on the art of living. At the pinnacle of the Roman Empire leisure was seen as the ideal way to spend time. Not the short-lived hedonistic outbursts, or the passive slump of streamed entertainment, but an active state of relaxation, spent reading, in contemplation or even writing, or connecting with others at the baths. Perhaps one of the most destructive and out of balance aspects of our modern way of life is the intense pace. This is no secret; the terms rat race, treadmill, and hustle culture are well used, and widely experienced. In many ways our lives our full, but often due to the pace and plethora of activities, shallow. Rarely do we have the time to sink into an experience or live at a leisurely pace. In some cases even our two week holidays become something to be rushed and packed with activities to maximise the limited time. Then when we reach the finish line of our working lives, we have retirement to look forward to, although often with little energy left, or deteriorating health making it difficult to take full advantage of the extra time for leisure and creativity.
Of course, much of the ability to have this leisurely Roman lifestyle was enabled by slavery that was present throughout the empire. Slavery was defined by among other things, lack of control of your own time. In the 16th Century the protestant Christian work ethic, predominantly in Western culture, sewed the moral seeds for work and viewing idleness as a sin. Then came, perhaps most influentially, the industrial revolution. Never had time been so closely tied to productivity and economic output. Idle machines, idle time, meant stalling profits. No area of life became immune to the tyranny of the clock and the allure of wealth. The pressure to produce can be felt across education, work, and even leisure. In more recent times, the individual who rejects the frenetic pace of life may be seen as a quirk, a bum, or perhaps a self-defined bohemian artist.
A wealthy Roman’s lifestyle may have been built on the backs of slaves, however modern technology enables us to have arguably even more luxurious and convenient lives. We have smartphones, aircon, robot hoovers, dishwashers, and other gadgets built on outsourced labour in mega-factories in far away countries. The system that keeps our luxurious lifestyles going, is far from balanced. To maintain the luxury, others live in slave-like working conditions, and Gaia, with no voice herself, has her resources stripped to feed our thirst for ever more.
The large tectonic plates of imbalance; extraction without replenishment, and luxury built off disempowerment and poverty, are replicated by personal imbalances. Rarely does tipping the scales result in balance at the individual level, even if the individual supposedly has the scales tipped in their favour. Both sides of the scale are defined by excess; one side perhaps by excessive labour, the other by excessive consumption.
Invention, innovation and industrialisation have brought ease and luxury, enabling billions to live lives of comfort and excitement. Populations have shifted from poverty to wealth due to the might of the economic machine, and many diseases have disappeared or been nullified through scientific discovery and medicine. It would be foolish not to be grateful, and it is easy to be caught up in the race, growth is natural after all. However, we have become victims of our own success. It is a pattern seen throughout nature, like when what we term a plague of locusts devours the very plant life that sustains it, humans are now devouring the planet that sustains us. The rise and fall of populations, like the rise and fall of empires, repeats, however this time human activity is significant enough to impact the whole planet – the dial has been turned up, frantic work has created burnout and a burnt out world. Continuous consumption, persistent anxiety, brains drained of dopamine, and a planet drained of resources.
There is nothing intrinsically wrong with wanting luxurious possessions, thrilling experiences, or convenience. The bear inhabits a world full of beauty and variety, with an innate desire to explore, experience and enjoy. However, like many once pure and desirable motivations, they can become twisted or distorted, which leads to excess or imbalance. Desire becomes greed, stimulation turns into addiction, convenience becomes laziness.
We are exposed to a whirlwind of excitement, opportunities and choice. We are stimulated like never before, some would say, with the ubiquitous reach of smartphones, overstimulated, which shows itself in the high levels of anxiety and attention deficit disorders in young people. Even though we may lie down for rest, our minds continue to toss and turn.
We are workers and consumers, who have become detached from the sources of natural nourishment; growing our own food, and connection with nature and its pace and rhythms. Pre-industrialisation our working lives were defined by the seasons – sewing, growing, reaping, feasting and resting. Closer to each other, closer to our bodies’ needs, and closer to nature. We used to view and experience time in natural cycles – the cycle of daylight and nighttime, and the cycle of the seasons. These gave us natural times to be productive and to rest, and to live in the harmony with the natural world that sustained, and despite the damage we’ve wreaked, continues to sustain us.
The pressure the post-industrial world exerts, prizes us apart, creating a disconnection with nature and each other. Excess capitalism thrives on separation and individualism; if you are disconnected from the source of nourishment and your first call when in need is to spend rather than call on a neighbour, capitalism wins. The wealth gap grows, fracking the ground and fracturing community, tearing up trees and pulling apart neighbours. Monolithic multinationals rollover locally owned businesses and steadily the connections between people and land are severed. Corporate and private equity bank balances grow as community and connection with nature diminish. Modern capitalism is perhaps the most ubiquitous example of the tried and tested rule of power; divide and conquer. Made more effective, as most of the time consumers, or people, are unaware of this strategy or unintended consequence.
The feminine and the masculine, balanced in nature, one side more driven to explore, the other to nurture, compliment each other. In contrast, the capitalist society drives everyone regardless towards paid work, and financially rewards those who strive for fame and fortune. This is another weight on the scales that shifts the balance towards doing rather than being. At the very time that nature needs more nurturing, much of popular culture glamourises competitiveness and economic success, which often leads to the mindset of scarcity and taking, rather than giving and sharing.
Recently, the global pandemic exacerbated the issue of separation, as people stuck in their homes became more isolated, relying on web calls and online shopping like never before. However, for many, perhaps driven by the extreme circumstances of this time, it became a wake up call.
Given time to walk through traffic-free cities, and space to reflect and turn inwards, as if awakening from a deep dream, many questioned the frenetic pace of life and the value of their work. Silent quitting became a phenomenon in companies across the globe, as money alone was found wanting when it came to motivation and purpose. For some, no longer having to cram in the daily commute, they began to get a taste of a less hectic, more balanced life.
The threads tying happiness and meaning, work and purpose, wealth and health had become frayed, and people all across the world sought to sew new threads. As the pandemic faded some decided not to return to the office, others made minor tweaks such as shifting to the increasingly popular four-day work week. In may only be one day less at work, but going from five and two, to four and three provides significantly more balance between work and rest, relaxation, or pursuing hobbies. Pendulums swing back and forth, nature seeks balance, extreme excess creates forces of equal and opposite power, and for some young people yet to enter the workforce the pendulum has swung to the other extreme. With a feeling that the material rewards just aren’t worth the steep climb of the corporate ladder they are opting out all together. In Japan a sizeable proportion of the younger generation are rejecting the country’s historically gruelling corporate culture. For some it takes the form of being a social recluse, for others they are opting for part-time, freelance, or low-skilled, low stress jobs, while another group known as the Satori Generation are actively rejecting the intense materialism, luxury consumerism, and traditional career ambitions in favour of a minimalist, low-stress lifestyle.
They join an increasing number of individuals and groups looking to find more grounded and calm lifestyles. Others are actively seeking like-minded communities to live equally as vibrantly, but lives based on depth and connection with others and nature. As keen as the desires of materialism tug, they feel the pull of community and nature just as strongly, or even more deeply. Resisting the individual self-sufficient island buy anything I need mentality, people are forming movements and projects based around community, closeness to nature, sustainable agriculture and shared resources. They are finding antidotes to the huge tidal forces of global commerce and globalisation and building communities based on real-world in-person contact and contact with the natural world. These communities are springing up across the globe as if watered by spring rain.
In many industries, the large gobbles up the small, however, even if the platforms are still owned by giant corporations, mainstream media has fractured into a billion and more social media accounts. People are sharing their stories with people all across the world, with posts about community meals in Totnes, England, permaculture co-living in Mata da Rainha, Portugal, and regenerative farming outside Cusco in Peru. They are sharing knowledge and connecting,
experimenting with new ways to come together and thrive in an environment where connection to each other and nature is the central ethos.
One of these experiments is Bosque Humano close to Malaga, a community that applies permaculture practices to enable humans to live in symbiosis with the land and the food they grow to eat. The community are working on a way to live in a forest in harmony with the natural environment that sustains them. Eco Caminhos, nestled in the lush mountains of Nova Friburgo, Rio de Janeiro, is a permaculture farm and community that practices bio-construction and agroforestry, with daily meals made from the organic food grown there. The farm is fully self-sustaining in energy, produces 60% of its own food including vegetables, fruits, meat, milk, eggs and to date has planted over 8000 trees.
In China, in hills two hours drive from the bustling city of Hangzhou a community of 20 people live in Xuling, a village that has stood for more than 1000 years. Most of the land is forest, and in spring, yellow canola flowers cover the hundreds of terraces where all the farming is pollution-free. The people that live here had original come to escape city life, which they described as too harsh, too stressful, too suffocating. Now as part of Sunshine Ecovillage they are on a mission to train others to start there own eco villages and pass on ideas from traditional Taoism and living in harmony with nature to future generations.
In the High-Valley Rewilding Hamlet in the Haa Region Bhutan, stands an eco‑village in a Himalayan valley where residents work collectively to restore alpine biodiversity that has been degraded by decades of over‑grazing, soil erosion, and climate‑driven vegetation shifts. The community live in traditional stone‑houses with shared hearths and communal governance, and focus on native plant reintroduction (gentians, primulas, alpine asters), and zero‑chemical agriculture with yak‑grazing in rotation to reduce pressure on fragile meadows. Their vision, commitment, and work ethic has resulted in, in contrast to much of the world, biodiversity increasing.
Rather than sitting on their own, faces lit by blue-light-emitting smartphone screens, the people living in these places have returned to sitting together around a campfire, their faces lit by the warm amber glow of the flames and the company they share.
As well as these groups, companies and governments are also responding to the stress placed on people and planet with alternatives ways of operating. This year the Scottish Parliament passed the Community Wealth Building Bill which includes measures to use public procurement to support the generation, circulation and retention of wealth in local and regional economies including diversifying ownership of land, energy and other assets, and encouraging local business start-ups. It was the first country to legislate this economic model at a national level, and may inspire others to follow. The on-going conflicts in Eastern Europe and the Middle-East, and their effect in disrupting global supply chains has also prompted governments to re-assess national energy strategies, and even if primarily driven by security and price concerns, the move towards local renewable energy sources offers both environmental and social benefits.
These communities, organisations and governments are helping stem the gush of excess, making a move towards restoring balance and a more circular relationship with natural resources, helping build lives that are closer to nature with more time and space for depth and connection. They are forging new paths, letting go of engrained habits, and seeking lives where the inhale and exhale of connection and harmony allows human nature and the natural world to thrive.