the good life: a blank slate

living well in 2025

2,500 years ago, Socrates spent his days interrogating Athenians about virtue and meaning. Marcus Aurelius, emperor of Rome, wrote to himself daily in pursuit of clarity and inner peace. Plato designed blueprints for living well.

Fast-forward to today, and we’re still wrestling with how to live a meaningful life. The context changes, but the question stays the same.

So what does the good life look like in 2025?

the old way is fading

Our vision of what makes a good life evolves alongside our material circumstances.

During the agricultural revolution, a good life revolved around surplus food because it meant freedom from constant survival mode. With the Industrial Revolution, it was tied to predictable work and upward mobility. Post-war prosperity put a spotlight on comfort and security as they became accessible to more people than ever before.

Each era has expanded our definition of what’s possible, moving the goalposts on what a meaningful existence entails.

But something fundamental has shifted.

Wealth, status, followers, dream jobs — we’ve either checked every box ourselves or watched others do it, and real satisfaction remains elusive. The external markers don’t deliver the authentic fulfillment we’re really after.

Interestingly — and unique to the present era — no obvious new script has emerged.

It’s a perfect storm: the old definitions have lost their grip, but the world is too complex and fast-paced to offer reliable new ones.

Too much change, too many paths, too much noise.

Most people reading this already live beyond what previous generations could imagine, yet something feels missing. That’s not personal failure, it’s evidence we’re looking in the wrong places.

So where does that leave us?

It might leave us somewhere hopeful. What if we’re more free than ever to ask the deeper questions about what actually makes life worth living?

the only stable foundation

When the old markers of the good life fade and no new ones can take their place, we’re left with the only option that’s ever truly been ours anyway: to go inward.

For a long time, “going inward” was spiritual territory. What’s compelling now is that it’s become the only option we all have left. The only scoreboard that holds its ground no matter what. The only foundation that can’t be disrupted by the next piece of tech or cultural mood swing.

We’ve exhausted the external version of happiness, watching it repeatedly break down. And now, what’s left is what’s always mattered — but finally, we’re in the right position to see it.

When nothing external provides lasting satisfaction, the logical move is to build from what’s actually ours to shape.

what going inward actually looks like

In an age of noise, speed, and endless choice, going inward is almost an act of defiance. It’s certainly a contrast that feels foreign to most of us.

But what does going inward actually mean in practice? For me, it comes down to cultivating a few key states:

Stillness

A sense of center while everything accelerates around you. The pace slows down, and the constant pull toward stimulation or escape subsides. You’re where you are, and you’re happy to be there.

Discernment

Your mind isn’t a crowded room. There’s gained clarity on what’s yours to care about and what isn’t — a quiet confidence in knowing what’s supportive and what’s best to avoid.

Gratitude

You’ve trained your eye to see the good in whatever room you’re in. Not as a mindset trick, but as a new form of perception. You keep the intrinsic pull toward ‘more’ in check, and striving becomes more of a choice than a compulsion.

Resilience

You grow comfortable with uncertainty. You bend with the times, knowing what you need to feel steady. There’s less expectation or attachment to how things should be and more relationship with what is.

Alignment

You know what you’re moving toward, but you’re not forcing it. You aren’t outsourcing direction, but building the metrics yourself.

These are the pillars of the good life, the way I see them. Yours might look a little different. But finding them means you don’t have to wait to feel like you’re living well. It’s available now.

your move

In 1845, Henry David Thoreau built a cabin in the woods and stepped away from industrial society. His goal was simple: to “live deliberately,” and find out what actually made life worth living.

Perhaps throughout all eras, life has extended the same invitation.

The good life isn’t waiting somewhere else. It’s here — in the part of you that doesn’t sway with shifts in culture, or tech, or metrics.

And it matters that we find that place.

Because the challenges ahead won’t be solved by people chasing the next thing. They’ll be met by people with a firm footing.

The more of us who build this internal foundation, the more we can tackle what’s in front of us — without getting swept away by the noise.

If not us, who?

j