Domesticky

Somewhere along the way, we went from fire-lit gatherings to doom scrolling in the dark, from slow-grown food to ultra-processed sludge, from living within nature to wrangling it into submission.

The human race has truly lost the run of itself and is gripped by a frantic obsession with growth, efficiency, and convenience.

But at what cost?

The Madness of Modernity

We wake up to alarms that jolt us from rest, not because we’ve had enough sleep, but because we must be productive. We ingest caffeine not as a treat, but as a necessity to counteract exhaustion. We are glued to screens designed to exploit our attention, feeding an economy that thrives on our distraction.

The way we live isn’t sustainable. Not for the planet, not for our minds, and certainly not for our souls. Yet, we keep at it – plastering over our stress with consumerism repackaged as self-care.

Buy the candle, book the spa day, download the meditation app. Just don’t ask why we’re all so bloody burnt out in the first place.

The Worship of Work

We’ve built a world where worth is measured in output. If you’re not grinding, you’re falling behind. If you’re not monetising your hobby, what’s the point? The myth of meritocracy keeps us chained to this treadmill, convinced that if we just work hard enough, we’ll get ahead.

But ahead of what? And, again, at what cost?

The Convenience Trap

We’ve been sold convenience as the pinnacle of progress.

Fast food, next-day delivery, on-demand everything.

But convenience is a trojan horse.

It promises ease while gutting our ability to be self-sufficient.

We don’t cook. We microwave.

We don’t fix. We replace.

We don’t talk. We text.

We are less connected to the land, to our skills and to each other than ever before. And yet, depression, anxiety, and loneliness are at all-time highs.

Funny that.

The Illusion of Control

We track our steps, our sleep, our calories, our time, our productivity – as if data alone will save us.

We curate our online selves, smoothing out the rough edges, presenting only the highlights.

We cling to routines, schedules, and plans, convinced that if we just optimise hard enough, we’ll finally feel at peace.

But peace isn’t in the analytics. It’s in the messy, unquantifiable act of living.

What Now?

We won’t fix this overnight.

But maybe we can start by remembering what it means to be human.

To slow down.

To connect.

To reject the idea that our only value lies in what we produce or consume.

Maybe we start by admitting that we’ve lost the run of ourselves.

And that’s how – if there’s any winning to be done – we win the human race.