Over the past decade, I have had the opportunity to live in jungle villages in Burma with the Karen people during a time of war. You might expect the brutality of war to tear people apart, manifesting deep unhappiness and despair. But the opposite was true.

The people lived, laughed, and loved harder than any suburban Christian I have ever met. Despite suffering at the hands of a tyrannical military junta, they embraced joy in a way that few in the West could ever hope to. Here, in a world where they had little beyond rice and each other, they embodied a level of happiness that defied logic—especially when compared to the material abundance of the modern world, which often fails to bring true contentment.

Ever read the book Outliers? The healthiest community in America wasn’t healthy because of diet, exercise, or even genetics—it was community. When people have a strong sense of belonging, they want to be alive. Imagine that.

Ever look into Blue Zones? It’s the same story. Villages. Human connection. A way of life that prioritizes relationships over relentless consumption.

Now, imagine America restructured, sculpted by villages connected by scenic paths. Imagine structures built to complement the landscape, utilizing eco-tech to sustain themselves. Picture people gliding between villages on electric bikes, visiting friends, offering their services, dancing to music or simply exploring.

This isn’t a radical new concept—it’s a return to an ancient way of being. A Hobbit- or Avatar-like existence where humans live in deep communion with the land. But we don’t want to go back in time. We want all of the comforts technology provides. And we can have it all.

We already have the technology to build in harmony with nature. We don’t need more—we have too much. The excess we experience was created from a fear of scarcity. But for a brief moment in time, we are experiencing abundance. If we position ourselves strategically, we can sustain this abundance, even if the powers that were try to take everything from us to enforce dependency.

We have the knowledge and technology to grow our own food—no problem. We have all of the information to built beautiful domiciles. Why we are required to buy cooky cutter, cheaply designed homes, infested with 90 degree angles? It’s gross. Humans have a right to build the world we want and what we want is a garden. But somehow we have agreed to let bureaucracy control what and how we build under the guise of safety. As if we are too stupid to build sturdy homes for our families. Permits and codes and zoning keep humanity from building a garden. We don’t need others to do it, we need to free ourselves from those who want to keep us trapped in a system of immortalizing ugliness and shame.

We have the power to exit our contracts with the corporation of America. We don’t have to play by their rules. And ironically, they left us a way out. It’s right in front of us. It’s law. The law will set us free—but more on that later.

This vision starts with building villages.

Places of human refuge where people can come to heal, to reconnect, to remember. I want to create Eco-Tech-Spiritual-Rehab-Villages. A new kind of sanctuary for the next chapter of human evolution. A place for culture to grow. A place where people can come escape the noise and stress of the bullshit of their lives. A place where people can come dance, play and create. A place for the artist; for the gardener; for the builder. Everyone I talk to wants to live village life. And I know the way.