P is for Prosperity

From the memoirs of Billie Harper, looking back on her learning journey.

We used to measure prosperity in things—growth curves, bank balances, endless accumulation. The old world chased prosperity like it was a finish line. But in the archives, I’ve read how that pursuit left people empty. Ancestral voices warned us: if prosperity comes at the cost of others—or of the planet—it’s not prosperity. It’s extraction.

After the Collapse, we had to redefine everything. Prosperity became quieter. It looked like full water tanks, community kitchens, and children laughing—and sounded like songs shared at sunset and elders heard without interruption. It felt like enough.

One of Diana’s journals speaks of “the wealth that comes from knowing you are safe, seen, and supported.” I come back to that often. It reminds me that true prosperity doesn’t isolate—it connects. It doesn’t hoard—it circulates.

In our zone, we still trade, still work, still save and spend. But we do so with a different compass. Our currencies are care, contribution, and continuity. Prosperity is a shared harvest, a healed relationship, a purpose-filled life.

My daughter Lena once asked if we were rich. I told her we had sunlight, saltbush, stories, and time. She smiled and said, “That sounds like yes.”

It was.