Escaping the Rat Race

are we even living anymore?

As we ease into this new year, I find that I am living in the strangest time I’ve experienced in my entire life. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to be my authentic self with an abundance of distractions filling every empty void of each day. For me, all I want is to simplify my life with ease, but in order to make that happen, I have to be incredibly intentional.

I’m currently spending my winter in Southern California, taking a break from the quaint little town on the Oregon Coast where I live to escape the rain and enjoy surfing in the sunshine. Throughout the last month, the buzzing world of the city (which I most often avoid) has become quite an unexpected culture shock for me.

Cybertrucks and Waymo self-driving vehicles take over the streets, children roam free on e-bikes and in the surf lineup (I’m still wondering why they aren’t in school?), going out to eat has somehow become cheaper than buying my own groceries, and as I bounce around to different pet-sitting gigs in North County San Diego, the technological gadgets are endless: automatic pet feeders, cameras all over the outside of the house, a smart TV in every room, and endless apps to get into people’s garages and front doors.

It seems like we are becoming hypnotized by technology, consumerism, and materialism. But are we even living if this has become our continuous state of being? Around every corner of our homes and on the streets are endless distractions— comparing ourselves to others, swiping endlessly on our phones, watching TV all night, listening to podcasts on walks, and stressing out over our work even after we have logged out.

People are more disconnected from themselves than they have ever been and now they are becoming more disconnected from each other by tuning into a more unauthentic online world. As I walked along the boardwalk in LA, busking street artists in Santa Monica now perform for screens and people sit on benches glued to their phones as the sun sets over the Pacific Ocean.

With a tense political landscape, skyrocketing inflation prices, AI, and other technological advances, we are becoming so disconnected from ourselves and our purpose. People are forgetting why they are even here and have become consumed by money, power, image, and success.

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Throughout my travels this winter in California, I have been finding deals at local yoga studios to continue my practice at an affordable rate. Many yoga studios offer their first class for free or a small set rate to enjoy unlimited classes for two weeks. While in San Diego, I attended a yoga class without giving it much thought since it was free and the timing worked out well with my schedule.

The entire yoga class was a replica of a nightclub; house music blasted through my eardrums for the entire hour, the room was heated to 97 degrees Fahrenheit, and the lights changed through an array of neon colors when the beat dropped. I was sweating more than the last time I was at an actual nightclub in my twenties, and the pace we were flowing through our surya namaskar A’s was genuinely concerning for injury prevention.

Sweat was beading off my body onto my yoga mat, and the split seconds we transitioned into downward dog consisted of me sliding right off my mat. Mirrors surrounded the room, the teacher clapped his hands saying we looked great, and he even made a cocaine reference as a joke, making the room laugh. As the workout was certainly fabulous, I looked around and the room and it was full of women with boob jobs, lip fillers, and toned college girls in Vuori and Lululemon looking at themselves in the mirror as they worked out.

At the end of the class, with sweat coming out of every pore of my body, the instructor put us in savasana, and I ever so quietly opted out, rolling up my mat and exiting the room just in time for the class to end with a “namaste”. Although this may be some people’s cup of tea and the workout was exhilarating, I was genuinely confused about why it was considered a yoga class. I found it rather alarming and an interesting analogy to what we are experiencing while living on this earth today.

While I have dove into my yoga practice to help me become more present and in tune with my thoughts and daily intentions, the strength, flexibility, and mobility I have gained are a huge part of the practice. But what I had just experienced felt completely unaligned with the entire philosophy of yoga, and as I left the studio freezing, with dried sweat all over my body in the crisp morning air, I thought to myself—how can I be more intentional to live a life in alignment and intention, being one with this earth? How can I escape all these distractions and the grind?

The following evening, I went out to dinner with a friend from high school who has been living in the area for a year and a half. She spoke about her remote job, the expensive rent in Southern California, and how hard it was to make it work down here. She was desperately burnt out from her job and looking for a new one, with plans to move back to the East Coast within the next couple of months.

I curiously asked her how much money she made, if she was comfortable sharing, and she made $15k more than I make each year. As she hesitantly told me her income with a laugh, she ended by exclaiming, “I’m fucking broke.” I then shared with her how much I made each year, and she responded by saying, “It’s 2026, that’s not enough money.” And although I keep things pretty cheap, have no debt, no pets, affordable rent, and own my car in full, it was a bit of a wake-up call.

It was clear to me at that moment that what she said was true, I was definitely not making enough money. But all I yearned for was to go back to a slow and simple life where I could constantly have a regulated nervous system, have the ability to read a book at a coffee shop at noon on a weekday, have a log cabin with a wood-burning stove, a king-size mattress, a chicken coop, and an orchard full of fruit trees. Unfortunately, all the things I strive for to create a slow and simple life take a lot of work and, unfortunately, it also takes a lot of money. And for someone who lives in a rural area, money usually comes to me through technology, which involves working remotely as well.

This winter, I have felt so perplexed, these two ideas pulling me apart: the want to own a house with land and live simply with grace each day while still traveling a few months of the year, but in order to manifest this and have all the nice things, I need to work hard and make money.

The money I have made from my online remote freelancing business has given me the ability to work less than I ever have and make far more money. But all of a sudden, in the fifth year of my business, I feel a bit stuck, uninspired, and have realized I’m not quite making enough anymore. Somehow, my grocery runs of $100 have turned from two full bags lasting me two weeks into a small bag full of food to get me through dinner and breakfast for the next two days.

All of these wake-up calls and the weird state of the world—advancing technology and endless distractions—are making me more and more drawn to building a homestead and living off the land in solitude with my partner. But because of the reality of the expensive world we live in today, I have to become more creative and hard-working than ever to make it work.

I’m currently in a time of reflection and transition, figuring out which path to take next for my business and continuously deciding to choose to live with more intention each day. I might have to work really hard to get where I want to be, but I know for a fact that along the way, even though it will take hard work and money, I will not fall into the trap of what our world has become today or be stuck in a toxic, money-sucking, egotistical cycle.

I will continue to read books weathered with time, turning the pages each morning. I will go on beach and forest walks, intentionally leaving my phone behind to allow for peace and silence. I will not finance a fancy car or overextend my finances for my image. I will take time to play outside and rest when I need to, canceling plans if needed to take care of myself because my friends understand. And as I age, I will continue to nourish my body, but embrace the sunspots and the wrinkles as a part of my beauty. I will work hard to make money and serve my clients well, but also learn to work smartly, refusing to be overworked and underpaid through corporate America. I will only take work that feels aligned and work hard to continue to build toward the life my partner and I want, taking baby steps along the way, while still arriving each day with compassion and grace.

During this strange time where everyone continues to strive for more while becoming more disconnected and stressed out, I will not succumb to the rat race. I will make it work, but I choose to reach my goals by prioritizing a simple life and my physical and mental well-being along the way.