Imagine yourself living ten thousand years ago. You’re sitting around a campfire with your clan. Your skin kissed from the sun. The kill from that day’s hunt is roasting on a spit, above a roaring fire. You will eat the whole animal, organs and all. In the meantime you’re gnawing on a collection of foraged roots, tart berries, and leafy vegetation you found, grown in pristine mineral-rich soil on which you and your clan cohabitate. Your water came from a nearby stream or from captured rain in a clay pot. You’re squatting on your haunches or sitting on the ground, but so is everyone else around you. You’re outside, fresh soil under your fingernails from the day’s gathering. Everyone is barefoot. The day is over, and there is nothing left to do but enjoy the company, eat your food, and gaze at the stars. You will sleep with the darkness just as you woke with the dawn, in rhythm with nature.
Fast-forward ten thousand years. If you’re lucky, you cut up pesticide-aided vegetables and throw them into some factory-farmed eggs that are frying in butter and cheese made from cows fed a steady diet of nutrient-stripped corn. Once the food is done, you have to eat quickly, because work beckons. You’ve got to dash from your climate-controlled home to your climate-controlled office, where you’ll be hunched over a screen all day, or maybe standing in one place for eight hours answering inane questions. You check your phone to make sure you’re not already late, and a fresh set of attention-stealing alerts greet you. You finish eating and wash your hands with antibacterial soap before heading out the door.
― Aubrey Marcus
Excerpt from: "Own the Day, Own Your Life" by Aubrey Marcus.