So, how’s life treating you these days?

So, how’s life treating you these days?

Busy. Always busy. There’s so much happening, but it feels like I’m running on a treadmill that keeps speeding up. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m even going anywhere.

Sounds exhausting. It’s funny, isn’t it? They are supposed to be hubs of progress, but they can feel so… unnatural. It’s like they’re designed to disconnect us from everything that really matters.

I get what you mean. It’s all concrete and screens, rushing from one thing to the next. But isn’t it boring out here? Quiet all the time?

Quiet, yes. But boring? Never. Out here, life has a rhythm, not a race. I wake up to sunlight and birdsong, not alarms and honking horns. It’s meaningful and connected—whether it’s tending the garden, helping a neighbour, or creating something with my hands. There's time to breathe, to think, to just be.

That does sound peaceful. But what about people? Don’t you miss the energy, the constant buzz of life?

The energy can be like caffeine—intense, but it wears you down. Here, I’m part of a real community. I know my neighbours. We share meals, stories, and help when it’s needed. It’s much less transactional.

Hmm. I can’t even name three neighbours in my building. Sometimes it feels like I’m surrounded by people, without recognizing a single face. It is often lonely.

That’s the toxic paradox. Full of humans but not built for humanity. Scaled for machines, not for connection. It demands more and more, but it gives less and less. Here, everything slows down, and you realize that life isn’t about climbing higher—it’s about finding the ground beneath your feet.

It sounds... liberating. But how do you manage without all the conveniences? The restaurants, the shops, the nightlife?

Convenience is overrated. It’s another treadmill—fast food, fast fashion, fast distractions. Out here, I’ve found joy in simplicity. Cooking a meal, watching the stars at night, walking through a forest—it’s not convenience, but it’s deeply fulfilling. And honestly, isn’t that what we’re all looking for?

Fulfillment. Yeah, I can’t say I feel much of that lately. Maybe I’ve been chasing the wrong things.

You know, it’s not about giving it up entirely. I still dip into it when I want to. With remote work, you can live anywhere. I take my meetings from my kitchen table, or even from the garden when the weather’s nice. Then, when I miss a bit of buzz, I drive in or take a train for a day or two. The beauty is, you can choose the craziness when you need it, but you don’t have to live in it.

That’s true. My job’s mostly remote now, too. I never thought about where I work, only how.

Exactly. You don’t need to sacrifice the opportunity to live somewhere that feeds your soul. And when you do go back for a day, you’ll appreciate it more—it’s like a spice, not the whole meal.

I like that idea. Maybe I could have the best of both worlds—peace most of the time, and the craziness when I crave it.

Come visit. Just for a weekend. Feel the air, hear the quiet, and see what it’s like to live in a place that gives you room to grow. You don’t have to run away from—you can walk, one step at a time, toward a life that feels whole again.

Maybe I will. I think I need it more than I realized.