From Stress to Stillness: Why Simplicity Attracts More People Than Ever
There are moments in life when you pause — sometimes by choice, but often out of necessity. When Life Forces You to Stop.
Finding Peace in Simplicity – A Personal Journey from Stress to Stillness
For me, that moment came when everything had gone too fast — when I had worked too much and pushed myself until things fell apart.
Illness You Can Live With – But Stress Breaks Everything
Illness is something you can live with. But stress… it amplifies everything and tears the body and mind apart in ways no real life can be built upon.
Here, at the foot of the mountain where I live in my fäbod — a traditional summer pasture cabin in Dalarna — it became clearer than ever.
My friend Pia also lives in a fäbod, about ten kilometers from here but higher up the mountain. She’s lived there for more than seven years and knows what it means to live close to simplicity.
We talked recently about life, society, and stress. We both realized that, in the end, humans only need three things: warmth, food, and water.
The rest are constructions we’ve learned to chase — but they rarely bring real satisfaction.
Own Picture:
When Life Becomes Too Easy – and Too Hard
It may sound contradictory, but Pia said something wise: when life becomes too easy — too comfortable — the mind starts to wander.
Then we seek quick thrills: Instagram, series, sweets, little dopamine kicks. I recognized myself immediately because I used to live that way.
I worked hard, chased goals, stressed constantly — and when I tried to relax, I did it through the same kind of distractions that only deepened the emptiness.
Living in a fäbod isn’t easy in the modern sense. There’s no ready-made comfort. But it’s easier for the soul, because daily life becomes tangible: chopping wood, heating water, cooking food, taking care of what’s around you.
You become grounded. Present.
Coffee in the Forest – and the Realization of Stillness
One day, I sat in the forest with a cup of coffee, some sausage, and potato salad. It was quiet. The sun broke through the clouds, and the birds sang between the trees.
Such a simple moment — yet one of the most fulfilling I’ve had in a long time. It struck me how little we really need to feel at peace.
It was a revelation: when I stopped chasing more — the next project, the next high — I started noticing the small things. And the small things were big enough.
Kalle from Sollefteå – Turning Simplicity into a Way of Life
At the same time, I see more and more people choosing similar paths. One example is Kalle from Sollefteå, a man I follow on YouTube. He lives in a cabin and has built a modest but sustainable life around his lifestyle.
He’s incredibly skilled at filming — every video feels beautiful and intentional — and that has become his income source.
Someone once asked if he shouldn’t “get a real job.” His answer: as long as this works, why change anything?
He’s found a way to live that suits him — and to sustain himself through it. That’s inspiring. Not because everyone should start a YouTube channel, but because it shows that a small, honest life can still be sustainable.
Own Picture:
Pia – Self-Sufficiency and a Different Rhythm
My friend Pia is another example. She works only as much as she needs to — often in kitchens around Rättvik or Furudal — and spends the rest of her time practicing self-sufficiency in Dalarna.
She grows food, cooks, and takes care of her home. Her children are grown, she has few obligations, and she has built a life around working less and living more.
It’s a rhythm different from what most people know. As she says, she’s “down in the slope” — grounded and calm — not caught in the chase for stimulation. It’s a quieter, more rooted way of being.
Learning to Slow Down
As for me, I’m still in transition. After so many years of chasing, it’s strange to suddenly rest.
I notice I don’t get as much done — but that’s exactly the point. For the first time in my life, I’m truly resting. Not a short pause before the next project — but real rest. Slowly-slowly.
It feels like detoxing from the old life. The body and mind must learn that it’s okay to do less.
And that’s harder than it sounds — because society has taught us to measure our worth through performance, productivity, and results.
To instead say: I sit here with my coffee. I hear the birds. I do nothing more — and that’s enough.
That’s an entirely different kind of living.
The Old and the New
The simple life — the old-fashioned one — isn’t romantic or nostalgic when you live it. It’s practical.
Wood must be chopped. Food must be cooked. The house must be warmed.
It’s hard work, but meaningful work. You know why you’re doing it.
In modern society, much is done without knowing why. We run, produce, consume, scroll — and lose ourselves.
Choosing slow living in Sweden becomes a quiet form of resistance — a way to reclaim your time and your needs.
Own Picture:
Personal Reflections
Reflection 1: What surprises me most is how quickly the body responds to simplicity. Just a few days without stress and noise, and I feel more alive than I have in years.
Reflection 2: Gratitude comes easier. A meal, a ray of sunlight, a birdsong — things I barely noticed before are now highlights of the day.
The Paradox of Simplicity
It’s paradoxical: to live simply, you sometimes have to work harder. Chop wood instead of flipping a switch. Carry water instead of turning a tap. But on a deeper level, life becomes much simpler — because the mind is quiet.
Maybe that’s why so many feel drawn to it — people who follow Kalle’s simple-living channel, those inspired by fäbod culture in Dalarna, or anyone seeking a slower pace of life. There’s something in us that longs for the essentials.
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When You Strip Everything Away
It becomes clear: warmth, food, and water. The rest, in many ways, is excess. That doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy more — but it means you don’t need it.
When you truly feel that difference — in your body and in your days — life becomes freer. You depend less on those constant hits of stimulation.
You find peace that isn’t tied to the next notification, shopping trip, or episode.
My Path Forward
For me, this is still the beginning. I’ve spent years chasing, burning out, letting illness worsen under pressure. Now I’m trying something different.
I don’t want to fly high on dopamine anymore — I want to stay grounded, down in the slope. It feels strange, but it’s freeing.
I’m hooked on the simple life in Dalarna now. And for the first time in years, it feels like I’m on the right path.
Petter Hansson är frilansskribent och digital nomad med hjärtat i Dalarna. Han har under många år rest, vandrat och deltagit i evenemang runt om i landskapet och delar här med sig av både egna upplevelser och faktagranskade tips. På Dalarna.nu vill han lyfta fram det bästa av regionens natur, kultur och historia – från små byar och dolda pärlor till stora festivaler och klassiska resmål.
