What is wellness? pt. 1

How running, farming, and meditation reveal—and resist—individualism

Disclaimer: This piece includes content that may be sensitive for BIPOC¹ readers and those who experience disordered eating. I write from a place of ongoing learning and reflection, and what follows represents a snapshot of my current understanding. If you're reading this, there's a good chance you are someone I care about. I’d be honored to continue learning with you, through our relationship. So however this piece lands with you, please know that I care. I welcome your insights and would love to hold space for dialogue and mutual understanding—so don’t hesitate to reach out :)

Individualism at it’s finest

These days, I’m residing at Plum Village in France, as a happy farmer at the Lower Hamlet’s “Happy Farm”. My energy is largely devoted to gardening, practicing Buddhist ethics and meditation, and running. Alongside a beautiful team, I collaborate with the land, the elements, and countless non-human beings—not only to grow food, but to cultivate a deeper connection to life itself. In truth, food is a byproduct of this more fundamental process. In earnest, this season of life feels deeply wholesome, joyful, and grounding. I am incredibly grateful.

The farm is fertile ground—not just for vegetables, but for transformation. Joy and suffering alike surface here, and through them, I witness the impermanence of all things. This daily dance with change reminds me of the preciousness of life in its many forms. I practice meditation and Buddhist ethics for similar reasons: to embody compassion, nonviolence, and wisdom, and to be inspired by teachings and community. Running, too, has become a way of connecting with the landscape of both body and world—the shifting weather, the flowers blooming and fading, spring's oscillation between sunshine and rain.

The Subtle Faces of Individualism

Nevertheless, these practices have their shadow-side. Running, for instance, can sometimes shift from being a source of peace² to a measure of self-worth. In those moments, it becomes a project—to feel in control, to maintain a certain body image, to be "fit enough." When I skip a run, it can trigger anxiety and shame. With mindfulness, though, I’ve learned to recognize these feelings as symptoms of a broader cultural conditioning—rooted in Western wellness culture and individualism. Naming these influences helps me take them less personally.

Similarly, my experiences of meditation and farming can reinforce a narrow awareness—one that's hyper-focused on the self. As a White woman in predominantly White spiritual and farming spaces³, there’s a risk of spiritual bypassing: of taking my individual journey too seriously while failing to remain in touch with collective wellbeing. This, I believe, is one of the more dangerous aspects of individualism—when it disguises itself as personal growth. When this happens, I’m unavailable to attend to my truest, most essential wellbeing- that of the collective.

Cultivating awareness of the shadows

I’m learning to observe these shadow sides with more care. When feelings like shame or anxiety arise—say, from skipping a run—I try to meet them with the mindfulness practice known as RAIN⁴, first introduced by Michelle McDonald:

• Recognize the emotion

• Allow it to exist without pushing it away

• Investigate how it feels in the body and what it’s connected to

• Non-identify, or remember that I am not this emotion

Non-identification helps me understand that these feelings arise from conditions much larger than my individual self. They are temporary, conditioned, and not inherently "mine."

Sometimes, these feelings are tangled with disordered thoughts about food or with values like perfectionism and hyper-individualism—qualities deeply rooted in white supremacy culture⁵. By seeing this clearly, I don’t need to eliminate running, but rather bring more honesty and equilibrium to the practice. I’m learning that balance isn’t a fixed state, but an ongoing dance of discernment.

Running as Practice, Not Project

Buddhist psychology has helped me notice when running tips from nourishment into compulsion. During Plum Village’s three-month Rain’s Retreat, I began to reflect on how much space running took up in my life—and what the outcomes of that were.

In our Buddhist psychology classes with Venerable Sister Jina, we were invited to notice what "seeds" are being watering in our consciousness:

• What seeds are being watered by these actions or thoughts?

• Which ones would I prefer not to water?

The goal isn’t to eliminate experiences, but to bring awareness and choice into the process. For example, if I go running out of exhaustion or guilt, I might be watering seeds of resentment, fatigue, or isolation—rather than joy, vitality, or connection. In that case, even a “healthy” behavior might be out of alignment with my deeper values.

Dr. Larry Ward’s America’s Racial Karma added further depth to this reflection. He offers additional questions for inner inquiry:

• If I give this seed more energy, where will it take me?

  • Will it lead to wholeness in self and society?

  • Will it lead to a safe and just society?

  • Will it lead to meaningful, sustainable lives for us all?

These questions offered me a gentle wake-up call. Yes, running can be a powerful tool for self-care and mental health, which in turn helps me show up for others. But when it becomes too centered on individual achievement, it risks severing the very connection it seeks to support. I now ask myself: Is this practice nourishing connection or deepening separation?

A tool for ongoing reflection

To support myself in navigating this ongoing tension between personal practices and collective care, I had good ole’ ChatGPT create a simple reflection tool. It's not a checklist, but an invitation into curiosity, honesty, and alignment. I share it here in case it might be useful for you, too.

Mindful Practice Reflection Tool

A gentle check-in for cultivating balance, connection, and collective care.

Use this as a periodic reflection—especially when a practice begins to feel heavy, compulsive, or disconnected.

1. What is my intention?

• Am I doing this from joy, balance, curiosity?

• Or from guilt, fear, pressure, or needing to "achieve"?

2. How does it affect me (internally)?

• Does it nourish me or deplete me?

• What emotions arise before, during, and after?

3. Am I noticing cultural conditioning?

• Is this rooted in perfectionism, control, body image, or productivity?

• What systems or values might be influencing this?

4. What seeds am I watering?

• Joy, connection, vitality?

• Or isolation, resentment, anxiety?

5. Is this deepening connection or separation?

• Do I feel closer to the land, others, or life?

• Or more self-focused and closed off?

6. Is this supporting collective wellbeing?

• Would this way of being help create a just, sustainable, compassionate society?

This list isn’t meant to dictate or moralize, but to bring me into honest relationship with my actions. From this place of awareness, I’m enabled more agency.

Practices for orienting toward the collective during exercise:

• Smiling/waving/warm greetings/well wishing⁶ for those you pass, whether human beings, trees, birds, etc.💓

• Helping one another: inviting a friend/loved one/acquaintance to join you, even if that means same place/same time but different paces/modes of exercise🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏿

• Helping one another pt 2: from cash for the unhoused to helping creatures safely cross the road🐌

• Listening to an audiobook/sermon/dharma talk/etc. which might inspire you to treat yourself and others with kindness🕊️

• Bring a trash bag and glove to collect trash 🚮

• Raising money for charity⁷

• Running in quietude- mindfully listening to the soundscape of your internal and external environment🎶

• Allowing pause/rest to take in and enjoy the world around🌅

Feel free to use the comments to suggest ideas to include in this list (even if it’s not applicable to running)

A sneak peak of pt. 2

In part two, I will address the momentous necessity for learning to strike balance between personal and collective wellbeing, and some modes of doing so which I’m actively exploring. I will draw from Kazu Haga’s Fierce Vulnerability, David Viafora’s Thriving Together, and Noura Erakat’s The Boomerang Comes Back. Until then, feel free to indulge in their inspiring bodies of work :)

1. BIPOC stands for Black, Indigenous, and people of color.

2. Important to note that, yes, running ain’t for everyone. Feel free to translate my thoughts on running to whatever feels relatable to you- yoga, dancing, rock climbing, cycling, you name it.

3. The exclusionary dynamics of agriculture and western spiritual centers are both heavily impacted by systemically pervasive colonialism. They are topics worthy of deep looking and understanding, and concurrently informed, reformative action.

4. Here’s a 4 minute video for how to practice RAIN, from Tara Brach

5. If you are a White person, it is likely that for you the characteristics of White supremacy culture are/feel omnipresent. It may even be hard to imagine ways of being beyond them. I highly encourage looking into the topic of “White supremacy culture characteristics” to offer a new lens to your experience. A wonderful resource can be found here https://www.whitesupremacyculture.info/characteristics.html

6. As for well wishing, I draw inspiration from Buddhist metta [loving-kindness] meditation. Saying to myself things like, “May they be as happy and healthy as possible” “May they feel peaceful and at ease” “May they feel deeply loved and appreciated” and so on.

7. My best friend Olivia just ran in the London Marathon! She raised $7,500 for Project Purple, an organization which fundraises to find a cure for pancreatic cancer, to honor her grandfather, John Johnston.