Morning Light: The Quiet Revolution of Ecological Living
The colors of the prism beam through morning dew, flanking my silhouette along the office wall. The hues of fall, the color of the early sun, and the vibrance of the forest after a day of rain are moments that make all this effort worth it. For another chance to experience another morning like this is poetry. The scent of bread in the oven and the morning's coffee mix with the smell of November. Mornings like this, I am truly alive.
And yet, I think of the expressway full of people frustrated with traffic and missing all this wonder. While I savor my coffee, watching the forest spring to life mere inches from my window, the vast majority of humanity find themselves inside pods of steel and plastic, careening down a concrete path toward a brutalistic downtown dystopia — all in the pursuit of making a living.
And in doing so, they forgot to make a life.
The Ecological Alternative
My life isn't all amazing, and much of what I share has come with a fair amount of struggle. Building a life of intention and ecology is simple, not easy — and perhaps its biggest hurdle is one of social norms.
For most of my adult life, people have struggled to wrap their heads around what I do. As a result, I usually just say I'm retired, as that fits into an ideology they can understand. And the truth is, by their definition, I am. I do what I want, when I want, with whom I want. And for all those humans in those cars headed to work, this is what they are working toward. A chance at life on their own terms — if they just give 40 years on someone else's first.
Before you think this is me saying everyone should quit their job, it’s not. Most aren't cut out for a life of entrepreneurship. But that doesn't mean you can't build an ecological life and work as part of a team or something bigger than yourself. What I am saying is that most people sell out on themselves.
The Ultra-Processed Life
Jon Stewart recently described social media as “ultra-processed speech” that tricks our brains into overconsumption, just as ultra-processed, hyperpalatable foods do.
It made me think about all those people in those cars — their lives and routines, all propped up in the pursuit of what they have consumed from this ultra-processed platform. It made me think about the role it still plays in my struggle, too.
Because while I just shared the elegance of my morning presence, I'd be lying if I said I was always satisfied. Despite living a life on my own terms, I still find myself craving consumption like the rest. Measuring myself, my worth, my success, my collections against others.
And on some mornings — like today — I wake up with nerves like high-voltage caves, mind tuned to a frequency of freneticism and tension. Today, I woke up in the gap — and it was the morning light that brought me back to the gain.
The Gap and the Gain
That transition — from gap to gain — is perhaps the most essential daily practice in an ecological life. The gap is where we measure ourselves against ideals, against others' highlight reels, against some imagined perfect version of what our life should be. The gain is where we acknowledge how far we've come, what we've built, and what we've learned along the way.
Every morning contains this choice point. Will I wake in the gap, seeing all that's lacking, all that needs fixing, all that others seem to have that I don't? Or will I wake in the gain, noticing the sunlight painting prisms on my wall, the smell of coffee and bread, the forest stirring just outside my window?
The truth is, most of us oscillate between these mindsets. Even those of us who have intentionally constructed lives aligned with our deepest values still find ourselves pulled into comparison, into doubt, into wondering if we've made the right choices. The key isn't to eliminate these moments of gap thinking — that's a gap-based goal itself. The key is to recognize them quickly and gently redirect our attention to the gain.
This morning rhythm — waking in the gap, returning to the gain — is a microcosm of the larger pattern in an ecological life. We don't arrive at some perfect state of perpetual contentment. We practice returning to center when we've been pulled off-balance by the mimetic forces around us.
The Accidental Path
It’s thanks to a few parts luck, other parts lack of talent, a few more parts stubbornness, and a little bit of just not being that normal that I decided to go left while everyone else went right.
Bad student, procrastinator, a highly lazy human — I got here because I felt I had no other choice. I landed in business ownership early not because I wanted to, but because conventional means weren't available to me. College was off the table, and conventional paths from there were all but eliminated. leaving me — as I would be for much of my life — to figure it out on my own. I had a partnership opportunity with my old friend, risk. We were well acquainted.
So that's what I did. I took the long way. I traded a lot of short-term hard for long-term easy, and now here I am at almost 45, and somewhat idyllic. But it wasn't about being inspirational. It was about the fact that if I was going to be in charge of my whole life and endure the struggles that come along with that choice, I might as well design my own life. Because doing all that work just to try to measure up to society's version of what success looks like would fail me time and time again. Those means weren't available to me.
The Distraction-Action-Traction Continuum
What's fascinating about this accidental path is how it illustrates the Distraction-Action-Traction Continuum that underlies all meaningful progress. Society conditions most people to live in a perpetual state of Distraction or, at best, Action — busy but not necessarily productive, active but not truly advancing.
Distraction is characterized by reactive decision-making, constant firefighting, and a focus on yesterday's problems. It's the person scrolling endlessly through social media for "inspiration" while their own vision gathers dust. It's the entrepreneur chasing every new tactic without a coherent strategy. It's the commuter fuming in traffic while dreaming of retirement.
Action is better. It includes basic systems, consistent work, and some forward momentum. But it's still primarily reactive with limited strategic thinking. It's the person who's "doing all the right things" but still not experiencing the life they want. It's making a living without making a life.
Traction is where ecological living happens: clear vision, intentional decisions, focus on future growth, and measured progress toward what matters most. It's not about working harder; it's about working with greater intention.
My unconventional path forced me into traction precisely because the conventional paths weren't available. Without the mimetic options to follow, I had to create an ecological alternative. The irony is that what began as a disadvantage — being "a bad student,” a “procrastinator,” a “highly lazy human" — became the very advantage that freed me to design a life on my own terms.
The Ecological vs. Mimetic Choice
At the heart of my morning reflection is this fundamental choice we all face: Will we pursue ecological goals that align with our unique makeup and deepest values? Or will we chase mimetic desires adopted from others and reinforced by ultra-processed media?
The ecological path isn't about rejecting society or conventional work. It's about ensuring that whatever path we choose — entrepreneur or employee, conventional or unconventional — emerges from our authentic desires rather than imported ones. It's about creating congruence between who we want to be and what we do each day.
The mimetic path, by contrast, involves copying what appears to work for others without understanding the underlying principles. It's the business owner who implements "best practices" without adapting them to their specific context. It's the person who pursues a career because it's prestigious rather than fulfilling. It's the life built around impressing others rather than expressing oneself.
As Jon Stewart's "ultra-processed speech" observation suggests, our media environment makes ecological living increasingly difficult. Just as ultra-processed food hijacks our natural hunger signals, making us crave what doesn't nourish us, ultra-processed information hijacks our natural curiosity, making us desire lives that won't fulfill us.
The Short-Term Hard, Long-Term Easy Paradox
Perhaps the most counter-intuitive aspect of ecological living is its relationship with difficulty. It requires what I call "short-term hard, long-term easy" thinking: the willingness to endure initial discomfort for lasting ease.
Most people do the opposite. They choose short-term easy, which inevitably leads to long-term hard. They take the conventional job they hate because it's easier than creating an alternative. They follow social norms because it's easier than defining their own path. They consume rather than create because it's easier in the moment.
The paradox is that choosing the harder path initially often creates the easier life eventually. Building a business involves more initial struggle than taking a job, but potentially creates more freedom long-term. Defining your own metrics of success is harder than adopting society's, but creates more fulfillment over time. Creating your own routines is harder than following prescribed ones, but leads to days filled with wonder rather than traffic jams.
My forest-flanked morning, with its prism of light and coffee aroma, didn't happen by accident. It happened because years ago, I chose the harder path of designing my own life rather than the easier path of fitting into someone else's design. I traded short-term hard for long-term easy, and now I reap the rewards each morning.
The Daily Revolution
The true revolution isn't quitting your job or rejecting society. It's the daily practice of returning to center, of choosing gain over gap, of aligning your actions with your authentic desires rather than imported ones.
It happens in small moments — choosing to notice the morning light rather than checking social media first thing. It happens in medium moments — designing your workday around your energy rather than convention. It happens in large moments — making career decisions based on what actually fulfills you rather than what impresses others.
These choices, repeated over time, create what looks from the outside like an unconventional life. But from the inside, it simply feels like alignment — the natural expression of who you are rather than who you're supposed to be.
As I sit here watching the forest spring to life, I'm reminded that ecological living isn't about achieving some perfect state. It's about the practice of returning — to presence, to gratitude. To the gain rather than the gap; to the ecological rather than the mimetic. Even on days when I wake with nerves like high-voltage cables, the practice remains the same: notice, breathe, return.
This morning practice isn't just a luxury for the self-employed. It's available to anyone willing to carve out space before the day's demands take over. It's about claiming those first moments for yourself, for your ecological vision, before the mimetic world rushes in.
Because in the end, the question isn't whether you're an entrepreneur or an employee, conventional or unconventional. The question is whether you're living from the inside out or the outside in. Whether you're making a living or a life. Whether you're present enough to notice the prism of morning light on your wall, regardless of what the day ahead holds.
Design Your Ecological Life
Are you caught in the cycle of making a living while forgetting to make a life? At Paradigm Collective, we help high-achievers align their daily actions with their deepest values through our "Ecological Design" methodology.
Our approach doesn't ask you to quit your job or reject society — it helps you identify and eliminate the mimetic influences that pull you away from your authentic path. Through our guided process, you'll learn to distinguish between ecological goals that energize you and mimetic desires that deplete you.
Ready to design your life from the inside out? Schedule an Ecological Assessment where we'll help you identify your position on the Distraction-Action-Traction Continuum and develop a personalized strategy for moving toward traction in all areas of your life.