We seem to always be on these days — caught in a state of constant energetic activation that our bodies were never designed to sustain for long. And yet, this activated state is exactly what so many systems depend on. When we’re activated, we’re vigilant. When we’re vigilant, we’re scanning for threats. And when we’re scanning for threats, we’re far more vulnerable to the emotional pull of whatever promises to neutralize them.
I don’t mind the occasional ad in the middle of a podcast or TV show. I’m Gen X — I grew up on commercials for breakfast cereal, movies coming to the theater, and local car dealerships with questionable mascots. But today, ads are everywhere. A barrage of products and solutions we didn’t know we needed, but are told we’d better buy if we want to be better people, have better lives, or finally earn the love (or vacation) of our dreams.
I’m no marketing expert, but I’d wager many people are so worn down by this pelting that they’re now paying to have the ads removed. Either way, someone somewhere is making money.
The deeper issue is that all of this keeps us off balance. I’m sure there are useful ads out there — occasionally — but most never even reach the field of attention because they’re buried in an ocean of competition. Not competition for the product, but for your attention. And when the brain gets overwhelmed, it filters for irrelevance. In response, companies escalate: humor, urgency, crisis, insistence. Repetition designed to jolt us into vigilance and convince us we’re somehow behind, lacking, or out of sync.
We may not realize this is why we feel so out of sorts. But try a few days of a media cleanse and you’ll likely notice one of two things: either a spike of withdrawal-level anxiety or a slow, surprising calming of the nervous system.
I’m not suggesting abstinence from media. What I’m suggesting is a condition in our living-well philosophy: energetic grounding.
Here on the farm, there’s always something to do. Some tasks are mundane, others urgent, others creative or experimental. But every day, we ground ourselves — for the day itself and for the season we’re in. Early spring calls for emergence and preparation: tending the soil, watching the weather, noticing what’s waking up. We need to be attentive, but not hyper-focused on the loudest or most urgent thing in our field. We ground ourselves in what we’re trying to cultivate: the conditions for living well.
We author our lives around this philosophy because we’ve learned how easily the world can dictate our rhythm — and how unsustainable that rhythm is. We’re not perfect, and our way isn’t the way for everyone. But our goal isn’t happiness or perfection. It’s to cultivate the best life we can with the cards we’ve been dealt. Not resignation, but stewardship. Not chasing completion, but living with integrity and coherence each day.
Grounding takes time. But without it, we’re blown around by every marketing gust or political wind. And that’s not who we want to be.
If you’re like us — seeking a path of self-authorship, grounded presence, and a life lived on your terms — join the journey. Practice with us. Move at the pace of the season. You may find, as we have, that this is a life worth living well.
Until next time — take what’s useful; leave the rest on the porch.