Eudaimonia (ευδαιμονία - ev-theye-mo-NEE-ah*) - the ancient Greek word for human thriving. Not a fleeting mood, but a life well-lived, rich with meaning, virtue, and depth.
This is a sanctuary for that journey.
You feel the weight of a world that asks for everything and gives back little. You're not lazy; you're hungry for real purpose. This is a space to explore what flourishing looks like on your own terms.
No algorithms. No optimization. Just old questions, new conversations, and a community of people who want to live well, together.
There is a place: ancient, sun-soaked, and sacred to the pursuit of the good life. A place where philosophy is not just read, but lived: with good food, good wine, and deeper conversation.
We are building a gathering there. A modern Kipos (Κήπος).
Over the coming months, clues will appear here. The curious will find their way. The committed will earn their seat.
Are you paying attention?
From the Journal
At 19, I had a bank job, a steady paycheck, and a future that looked like a straight line. I quit it all to spend two months traversing the coast of peninsular Malaysia by bus, train, and boat, with a girlfriend, a backpack, and no plan beyond the next stop. That trip taught me something no philosophy textbook ever could: the good life is not a destination. It's a movement. This essay is about why I chose the unknown over the safe, and how that choice has shaped everything since.
After losing my dive business in the 2008 crash, I moved to Montana with nothing. I bought a 1925 house that was nearly condemned, and rebuilt it with my own hands. Every nail, every floorboard, every custom detail. I learned that something physical is a kind of philosohy: a techne that teaches patience, care, and resilience. This essay explores what it means to rebuild your life from the ground up, and why the act of making is central to human flourishing.
I had already taught philosohy at university level when I left academia to train as a Divemaster in Borneo, then as a PADI Instructor in Florida. The classroom had given me theories; the ocean gave me practice. Underwater, I learned things that Aristotle never wrote about: presence, trust, fear, and the importance of breathing when everything feels like its closing in. This essay is about why I walked away from the ivory towers to teach underwater, and how the sea became my second classroom in practical wisdom (phronesis).
I'm a philosopher with a PhD from the Univerity of Reading (funded by the British Academy), where I researched Aristotle's concept of eudaimonia and human flourishing. My MA explored Aristotle's philosophy of friendship.
I've been a banker, a dive instructor, a FedEx owner, an editor, a builder, and a sailor. I've lost everything and rebuilt. I now live between Florida and an island in Greece.
I believe the old questions are more unrgent than ever. This site is my attempt to share what I've learned, and to build a community of people who want to live well, together.
Be the first to know when the gathering is revealed. Early positions will unlock priority access.
Monthly letters, philosophy snippets, and early access to essays
Behind-the-scenes clues, priority invitations, and a direct line to the philosophy
*A note on pronunciation: we use the Greek ev-theye-mo-NEE-ah, not the Latinized version. Because some things lose their soul in translation.