Our Collective Modern Funk
Why Life Today Has Us All Confused
Last week I gave up the struggle to stay organized and productive.
There's no point in pretending it's business as usual when our days lack structure during the long summer holidays, and the heat often saps our energy for anything constructive. I'm not loving it, but I've learned to embrace this cyclicality. Now, I spend more time in nature, meet with friends, allow myself to get slightly bored and let my kid do the same, and explore my own restlessness—either with calm acceptance or by fighting it and staying annoyed. The choice is mine.
I call it ‘negative space’ and it’s a positive thing. It’s a natural buffer zone. It has a purpose. It is by no means wasted time. It can help us clarify thoughts and gain perspective.
And we need it, because in a pretty short time we went from this:
to this:
And not without consequences.
We've got smartphones, space travel, and sushi burritos. But we're also stressed, depressed, and wondering why Netflix doesn't fill the void in our souls. What gives?
We're living in the most advanced, comfortable time in human history and yet so many of us stressed, depressed, and generally feeling like we're one unanswered email away from a total meltdown?
For millions of years, we were chilling in small tribes, hunting mammoths, and gossiping around campfires. Their biggest worries? Not becoming lunch for a saber-toothed tiger and making sure the fire didn't go out.
Life was hard, sure, but it made sense. We knew our place, our people, our purpose.
Fast forward to today. We're living in concrete jungles, staring at screens all day, and calling it progress.
Don't get me wrong – modern life is pretty awesome. But somewhere between inventing the wheel and creating TikTok, we lost something crucial.
Why?
Let's take a step back. Way back. Like, caveman back.
Natur. What's that again? We've swapped open skies for office cubicles. Our bodies, fine-tuned by evolution to sync with natural rhythms, are freaking out. No wonder we can't sleep without melatonin gummies.
Lonely in a crowd. We've got 1000+ Facebook friends but can't remember the last time we had a real conversation. Our tribal brains are screaming for connection while we scroll through Instagram. It's like trying to satisfy hunger by looking at pictures of food.
What's my purpose again? Back in the day, your purpose was clear: don't die. Now? It's a bit more complicated. We're expected to "find our passion" and "live our best lives." The pressure is real, and it's exhausting.
Information overload. Our brains evolved to track animal migrations, not handle 11 emails before breakfast. We're drowning in data, and our mental processors are burning out.
It feels that we’re always "on." Especially many entrepreneurial types are eager to give up their 9-to-5 only to end up in a 24/7 universe.
The illusion of urgency. Everything is ASAP in our 24/7 world. Our stress response, designed for fleeing lions, is constantly fired up. Over a Slack message. At midnight. About a PowerPoint presentation.
Success? Please, define it. We went from "surviving is winning" to... what exactly? A corner office? A blue checkmark? We're chasing moving goalposts and wondering why we feel like we're losing.
Still bodies, busy minds. Our bodies are built to move, but many of us only run when we're chasing the bus.
Food: glorious, copious, processed food. We've traded steaks and foraged greens for drive-thru burgers and supplements. Our guts (and our brains) are not impressed.
Should we all quit our jobs and go live in the woods? I get that it’s not everyone’s first choice.
The good news is, we can create a life that vibes with our cave-brain while still enjoying indoor plumbing.
A good start is by reintroducing some of what we’ve lost along the way:
Daily greens - on your plate and in your environment. Yes, you can add it to your fancy to do list. Spend some time in nature everyday. Without your smartphone, without listening to your HIIT playlist, without sharing it on IG. Look around, close your eyes, smell stuff, touch stuff. Observe. There’s a ton of benefits to doing it, approved by science. Find out what happens to your brain when you spend some time out.
Bring nature to you. Plant a garden. Even a sad little desk plant counts. Baby steps, people. Here’s what I stare at:
Find your people. Join a club. Start a weird hobby group. Do stuff together. It’s not about fancy dinner parties, but doing things with others IRL.
Have some self-compassion. We live in strange times. Start making your bed. Small wins add up.
Try some digital intermittent fasting: try to carve out time of the day when you don’t use tech. Turn off notifications. Have a "dumb phone" day. Rediscover the joy of staring into space.
Embrace the rhythm. Work with your body's natural cycles. Night owl? Early bird? You do you.
Walk. Dance. Have a solo living room dance party. Just move your body, for crying out loud. You don’t need a gym for that and a pair of new lululemons.
Eat real food. Cook something. Anything. Bonus points if it doesn't come out of a box.
Chill out. Seriously. Rest. Take a nap. Give yourself permission to do nothing. It's not lazy, it's revolutionary. And, shall I add, not that easy if you haven’t done that in a while. Expect guilt to kick in. That’s fine, it will dissipate over time.
Redefine success. Did you adult today? You're winning. Celebrate that.
Try some "vintage" practices. Meditate. Write a letter. Talk to strangers (carefully).
Allow yourself to get bored. Yes, it’s uncomfortable, but instead of trying to escape it, numb it - lean into it. Observe it. Taste it. Get curious about it.
The thing is -we're not broken, even if we often feel that way. We're just playing a new game with an old operating system. It's time for an upgrade.
This isn't about rejecting modern life but making sure it serves us, not the other way around.
Take the best of both worlds. Use that smartphone to schedule a hike. Use that productivity app to remind you to chill out.
Every generation has its challenges.
Our ancestors dealt with famines and plagues. We're dealing with Netflix decision paralysis and FOMO. Different problems, same human spirit.