I woke that morning at 6 am to the sound of crickets singing in my ear. The small trailer I lived in was nestled in the midst of the field and the trees, surrounded by nature and its symphony. It was the lullaby I would rock to sleep to and the gentle alarm that would wake me each morning. I was aligned to the fall and rise of the sun. The night sky was always bright with the stars and the moon; there was never any light to pollute the view, and as I gazed up, I marveled at the wonder of being alive.
I am far from being a farmer, but for two weeks I decided to challenge myself. I had long-held fantasies of off-grid living. Thriving amongst the trees and in control of my own destiny, but I had never put the dream to the test of reality. There were many uncertainties, but I knew if I didn't start now, it would be harder later. So in the midst of postgraduate confusion, I went outside and placed my fingers firmly in the soil.

I spent my days rooted like a tree into the realities that mattered most to me. The food I would eat, the milk I would drink, and the waste I would make were not shuffled away hidden behind the inner workings of some vast global system; they were wrought from the soil by my own hands. The light that glowed through the lamp at my nightstand was made by the same sun that shined on all of humanity, and the water that nourished me flowed from a stream I could see.Â
The best part was that after harvesting my nourishment, I could share in that bounty with others. It was a blessing to donate tomatoes picked straight from the vine and to cook fresh produce for others to enjoy.Â
Coming back to the city felt like coming back to a dream. The things that I experienced in those two weeks felt more real than anything I had left behind. When you’ve spent much of your life in discomfort, it is hard to imagine a reality outside of that, that is, until you leave and come back. That’s when you realize that something is not quite right. A discontent that wasn't there before begins to build, and for the first time, the life you had previously accepted comes into question.
This brought to light truths about modern existence that I had been wrestling with for some time. While immersed in nature, I felt deeply connected to the rhythms of life that are often overshadowed by the complexities of the contemporary world. The city I returned to was a place where the constant hum of machinery and artificial light masked the simplicity and authenticity of daily life. The dissonance between these two worlds made me realize just how much modern society had deviated from the basic needs that once defined human existence.
To see the natural environment dwindling the closer and closer I got to the city made me feel as if I had dwindled as well. As if the joy that I drank in for two weeks had run dry and I was left scrambling to find it again.Â
It wasn't until then that I truly felt how deep the contrast was between human nature and the environments we create. The fact that it is normalized to sit for 8 hours a day is baffling and in complete contradiction to the lives led by those who came before us. As we try to adapt to environments not built for our biology, we become like animals trapped in a zoo—surviving yes, but in no way thriving. Our lives are littered with chronic conditions that are a byproduct of our maladaptation to modern life. Diseases such as cardiovascular disease, diabetes, obesity, depression, and anxiety plague us more than ever before.Â
To understand the depth of this disconnect, consider how the humans before us lived. Hunter-gatherers practiced the most successful and longest-lasting lifestyle in human history. Imagine human history on a 24-hour clock where each hour represents 100,000 years. If history began at midnight, we would have lived as hunter-gatherers for nearly the entire day—until about 11:54 p.m., when agriculture began and modern civilization developed. Despite our access to new technologies and medicines, our bodies have not adapted to the changes that come with our modern lifestyle. For all intents and purposes, our biological makeup is most similar to our Hunter Gathers ancestors.Â
Ancestors, who lived in groups ranging in size from 20 to 100 people. A far cry from the nuclearized units of the modern home. Our ancestors were incredibly active, walking 5-8 miles a day, climbing trees, and digging and foraging for fruits and vegetables. This stands in contrast to the average 2 hours per week of exercises that most Americans get. Our ancestors had a more varied diet consisting of a variety of meats, veggies, and fruit, as well as honey. While today just three carbohydrate plants—wheat, rice, and corn—provide the bulk of the calories consumed by the human species. Each one deficient in certain vitamins and amino acids essential to life.
My intent is not to romanticize the lives of the past. Especially since my past and many others are littered with a history of slavery, colonization, and abuse at the hands of Western cultures. At the same time, I can only imagine the deep sorrow that rests in my ancestor's chest as they see me twist and jive to a tune I was never meant to dance to.
The more I reflect on this disconnect, the more I realize our solutions for it have embodied the Western medical model. The symptoms of our condition are seen as individualized expressions of sickness rather than a collective cry of a creature kidnapped from its natural environment and forced to behave in an unfamiliar way. ADHD, depression, and chronic high blood pressure are often treated in isolation with prescriptions and specialist interventions. The percentage of Americans taking more than five prescription medications has nearly tripled in the past 20 years, yet our most debilitating and chronic conditions are still on the rise.Â
Modern society encourages us to engage in activities like going outside, hitting the gym, or seeing friends and family as if they were mere accessories to our well-being, rather than fundamental pieces of a healthy and balanced life. As if the atomized and sedentary nature of our daily lives is a normal or healthy occurrence. The notion of exercise itself is a bizarre one born out of the wealth and luxury of modern Western civilization. For most of the world and for most of human history, people exercised out of necessity—walking, climbing, and bending down to meet their needs.Â
We are biologically wired for natural movement. Exercise stresses the body and requires it to spend significant resources repairing itself after each session. This process of repair releases antioxidants and anti-inflammatories, increases blood flow, and boosts cellular and DNA repair processes, all of which have been shown to lower the risk of diabetes, obesity, cancer, osteoporosis, Alzheimer's disease, and depression. A study showed that moderate to vigorous exercise, burning 2,000 or more calories per week, reduced death rates by 21% among those aged 25-49, 30% among those 50-59, and 50% among those 70-84.Â
After leaving the farm, I made a commitment to work against the tide of modernity. This commitment was to my body. To the felt sensation of things. I think about how easy it is to feel disconnected from your body nowadays. Days spent static behind a computer are torture to a creature evolved to walk 5-8 miles per day. We are meant to move, yet most of us don't, and this disconnection between our lifestyles and our biology is what causes a lot of sickness and disease. In order to move towards a greater place of health, we must align our lifestyles with our biological needs.
In reflecting on my time off-grid, it became clear that the disconnect I felt upon returning to city life was more than personal—it’s a reflection of a larger societal issue. Our modern environments, filled with sedentary routines, stand in stark contrast to activities our bodies were designed for. This disconnect is not merely a matter of individual discomfort but a systemic issue that influences our overall well-being.Â
Consider your own daily routine: How often do you find yourself out of sync with your natural rhythms? Do you feel that the environment you live in supports or undermines your well-being? How might incorporating more physical movement into your day impact your life?
As we navigate a world increasingly detached from our biological needs, it’s imperative to recognize that movement, connection with nature, and community are not just optional enhancements but essential components of a fulfilling life. By embracing these fundamental aspects of our humanity, we can begin to bridge the gap between our ancient biology and modern existence, finding a path to health and fulfillment that honors both our past and our present. The journey towards well-being is not just about adapting to modernity but about rediscovering and realigning with the timeless truths of our human nature.
I invite you to share your thoughts and experiences in the comments below. How has your environment shaped your sense of well-being? What steps are you taking to reconnect with your body's natural needs? Let's start a conversation about how we can all find a more harmonious balance in our lives.
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