When we look back at the way we live, we realise that the different parts have never really been separate parts at all. Food, movement, rest, work, the place where we live, the garden, the seasons, silence and attention constantly flow into one another. They strengthen each other, influence each other and continually give rise to one another.
We eat what the place and the season provide. We move because the place calls for movement: in the garden, among the trees, while mowing, walking and working. We rest in that same place, in the silence, in nature. Movement makes rest tangible; rest makes movement lighter. Work nourishes us, literally and figuratively, and food gives us the energy we need for our work.
There are therefore no separate parts, no individual boxes labelled food, movement, rest or well-being. It is one whole. One way of life.
Perhaps that is also what is special about what has gradually emerged here: it was never designed beforehand as a model for living. It grew out of everyday life itself. By simplifying things, by living closer to the place and the seasons, and by paying attention to what presents itself, a sense of connection slowly emerged. Looking back, we can see how everything is connected.
And then the word cycle(life) appears.
Life moves in cycles. The day returns, the week returns, the seasons return. We sow, tend, harvest and begin again. We eat, use energy, rest, recover and move again. What is done today carries through into tomorrow. What came into being yesterday eventually returns to us in another form. But a cycle is never a perfect circle. Everything returns, but never quite the same. The tree grows. The soil changes. We change. The garden changes.
What we do this year is never exactly the same as what we did last year, even if the pattern feels familiar. That is why cycle(life) may be a better description for us than a way of life or a system. It is not a method we have to follow. It is a movement we live within.
The place gives something to us, and we give something back to the place. The work requires energy and gives energy back at the same time. Rest makes movement possible, and movement makes rest tangible. Food comes from the earth and becomes part of our bodies again. Whatever remains eventually returns to the earth.
In this way, the cycles of nature, body, work and time continually flow into one another.
Perhaps that is ultimately what we were looking for, without initially having a name for it: not a life in which everything is perfectly organised, but a life in which things belong together again.
Cycle(life) is therefore not a destination. It is the way life has become.