Signing off in a world of what’s next

Before turning in last night, I saw a video by Pete from Just a Few Acres Farm YouTube channel. I have followed him for a while. Reflecting on his goodbye, I felt a tinge of sadness every time one of my favorite creators signs off.

I have zero interest in being a farmer. But I still watched him. why? Because I like folks who find a new way forward. And today after 6-odd years of being on the YT, he said that was it. He and his wife, both in their 50s, are now going to find a new way of doing things. It is not clear what that means.

“It occurred to both of us that we didn’t need to know,” Larson said. Similar to when he left architecture.

He was an architect, who decided that being in the 9-to-5 grind wasn’t for him. He wanted to do something more meaningful. So he left the job, the big city and became a cattle farmer, essentially running his small holding family farm.

“After 20 years on the job, I decided that the field of architecture just wasn’t for me. I had a great job that gave me a lot of leeway, but I wasn’t happy,” Larson told Grit.

I respect folks like Larson, who have the ability to quit whatever seemed successful at the moment. And doing so by listening to their heart to find their true path. This ability to quietly make a decision, and just move on is a rare thing in our world of fake social media. It is not easy to leave behind all that obvious success, fame, hundreds of thousands of followers, a revenue stream. Just to say sayonara.

I have a tinge of envy of Pete, because he paid attention to what was right, not what was right now. I wish I had the strength to walk away from the increasingly rancorous world of technology. And maybe I will. To live a more meaningful life. But for now, I am addicted to the game of technology.

Larson is worth learning from. He exemplifies the common trait I look for in my content, especially on YouTube.

We live in a world of such duplicity, lies, greed and avarice that seeing everyday people do everyday things is such a nice break.

Pete’s world stands in sharp contrast to the ugliness of the ongoing OpenAI lawsuit. No matter the titillation it provides to millions, it is just that. The spectacle of technology. The ugly money grab. I once read somewhere, “The worship of money and power has become our modern religion.” I can’t remember who said it. But it feels true today.

We often worry about what’s next instead of being okay with not knowing. Let whatever is next come to you. In time you will know the answer. And that’s all you can hope for.

On a personal note, I am going to miss his videos. Not because I wanna be a farmer, but because of the man himself.

I feel this way when one of my favourite YT’s sign off. Be it Pete, or anyone else. After watching them for years you have a strange bond. When they leave YT, it feels as if a best friend or a close family member has moved away. To a new place. Where you are unlikely to see them again.

These creators become a quiet, steady presence in your life. Pete wasn’t just content. He was a rhythm. A place you went. And the thing about such channels is that they are antidotes. To the noise, to the speed, to everything I spend my days writing about. They’re the opposite of the announcement economy. Nothing is launching. Nothing is disrupting. Someone is just trying to grow something and be honest about how hard it is. Or someone is kayaking for the love of it.

When that disappears, you lose a small refuge. Worth a moment of sadness.

Near the end of his final video, Pete said two words. “I’m sorry.” He knew people relied on that rhythm. He felt the weight of leaving. He carried it. That’s character.

May 12, 2026. San Francisco