I am an ESG Capitalist
Here is my dream of a different kind of wealth.
Joanne Tay
7/15/20267 min read
Living the “S” in ESG: a space for social connection, community spirit, mental well-being, and cultural heritage (Image: Unsplash)
I have a dream. It is not about million-dollar valuations or index inclusions. It is about a world of shared space and community that remembers how to gather, heal, and celebrate.
When I get sufficient capital, I will build a retreat space. Not a resort, not a co-working hub, but a place where the Social in ESG becomes real with morning rituals, afternoon play, and evening ceremonies that honour both traditions and the earth beneath our feet.
The Land Where Worlds Meet
I am drawn to the area bordering Slovenia's Nova Gorica and Italy's Trieste. It is not just picturesque; it carries high growth potential.
Geographically, it is a crossroads. Trieste’s airport is a short drive away, offering direct connections to several European hubs, making the retreat accessible without the isolation that often comes with rural hideaways. This is intentional as true community should be reachable, not hidden.
Economically, the region has high growth potential. The Italian and Slovenian governments are actively encouraging land purchases at affordable prices, pushing for cross-border integration and sustainable development. This is not a speculative bubble but a deliberate policy of regeneration – a rather rare alignment of political will and natural beauty. For someone dreaming of a retreat, I think this feels almost fated.
As for the land, its fertility is evident in the hilly vineyards. Local grape variants such as Malvazija and Teran thrive in this rich soil, producing wines with a distinctive terroir of limestone and sea breeze. The wine harvest is not just a commercial event but also communal and a celebration of what the land gives when we tend it with care. Imagine marking harvest days with wine appreciation, tasting the earth’s blessing in every glass!
This place is a microcosm of what Europe could become – a green, connected corridor where nature and culture coexist, where borders blur not through bureaucracy but through shared practice, where land and life can grow together.
How The Day Will Look Like
Morning: Yoga, Chanting and Divine Energies
Each morning, we rise not to the buzz of notifications, but to the sound of breath, chant and intention. In many traditions, each day of the week carries a distinct vibration. This is how our morning yoga practice would honour each day’s divine energy.
Monday is the Moon's day for intuition and surrender.
Tuesday is Mars's day for courage and warrior energy.
Wednesday is Mercury's day for being a messenger of wisdom.
Thursday is Jupiter's day for abundance and opportunities.
Friday is Venus's day for celebrating love and creativity.
Saturday is Saturn's day for grounding and remembering our ancestors.
Sunday is the Sun's day for vitality, visibility and self-expression.
This is not dogma, it is rhythm. It reminds us that we are cyclical beings living in a linear world – something that the corporate world often forgets.
Afternoon: Play, Community and Free of AI
The afternoon belongs to connection. I’m thinking of playing in sand, like beach volleyball.
I am a fan of Frank Herbert's Dune, not just for the epic science fiction or political intrigue. What fascinates me most is the universe that Dune was set in – after a cataclysmic war against artificial intelligence (known as the Butlerian Jihad). In that world, humanity made a collective decision: never again would they be subservient to thinking machines. So they turned inward into themselves.
Humans thus chose to develop mental and physical abilities to superhuman levels. Spice (or melange) was not just a drug; it was a catalyst for expanded consciousness, prescience, and even allowing space navigation without using any computers. Spice made interstellar travel possible without AI.
Contrast that with our current trajectory. We are racing to build more powerful AI, to automate everything, to outsource our thinking. We seem to be creating the same pre-Dune future where thinking machines rule (read more here).
But Herbert’s story is not a warning against technology. I see it more as an expansion of human potential. It says that we are capable of more than we think if we are willing to cultivate our own minds, bodies, and spirits.
At our retreat, the sand beneath the volleyball field is not just sand. It is a simple reminder that we can play, compete, and connect without a screen between us. We can enhance our own abilities through sports, yoga, meditation, art, and community without the use of machine.
To me this is the most important ESG statement of all: investing in human capital, not just as a resource, but as a source of infinite potential.
Afternoon: Art
For those who prefer more introspective afternoons, a local art gallery shall await. This will be a quiet space where Slovenian artists speak through their work. Often they have a deep affinity for naturalism, painting the world as they see it, not as they wish it to be. Abstraction dissolves form into feeling, surrealism shapes reality into dreamscapes, but naturalism plants its feet firmly on the ground. It studies the curve of a hill, the rain on a window, the quiet dignity of a weathered face, and then renders them faithfully.
In an era of greenwashing and crafted narratives, this honesty feels radical. It reminds us that ESG is not just aspirational language, but a willingness to face things as they are with the imperfections and uncomfortable truths.
I also dream of a vault gallery to hold a different kind of treasure: sapphires. These precious stones are not merely beautiful. They are among the rarest minerals on Earth, with its stores already depleted or nearing exhaustion. Each sapphire is a chronicle of time formed under immense heat and pressure millions of years ago, carrying within it the blue water of ancient seas and the fire of volcanic birth. For centuries, sapphires have been prized not only for their colour but also for their spiritual symbolism. They are believed to attract wisdom, protect against envy, and guide the wearer through conflict as a stone of clarity, truth, and divine favour.
Sapphire represents what we lose when we only extract and never restore, when we consume without reverence. The vault gallery is not a display of luxury. It will be memento mori (Latin: remember you will die) for Earth's treasures – a reminder that true wealth is not in what we mine, but in what we can preserve for future generations.
Evening: “White” and “Grey” Ceremonies
As the sun sets, we gather in ceremonies.
Cacao ceremony – cacao is not just a chocolate bean, it is sacred. Its story begins in the ancient rainforests of Mesoamerica where the tribes such as Mayans and Aztecs revered it as a gift from the gods. They called it food of the gods, using it in rituals to open the heart, to commune with the divine, and to facilitate honest conversation between chieftains and warriors. Unlike the heavily processed sugary chocolate we know today, ceremonial cacao is pure, bitter, and rich in theobromine, a compound that gently stimulates the heart while soothing the nervous system. In a world that runs on caffeine and cortisol, cacao helps us to soften. It does not mask our emotions; it invites them to the surface, creating a safe space for vulnerability. To drink cacao together is to remember that we are not alone, that connection is not a luxury but a lifeline.
Wine appreciation – featuring local varietals like Malvazija and Teran. Malvazija is a grape that thrives in the Karst region's windswept hills, produces wines that are minerally, slightly briny, with a whisper of honeyed orchard fruit. The limestone and Adriatic Sea air seep into the vines, giving each sip a sense of place. Teran is darker and more robust. It is deep ruby in colour with high acidity, carrying distinct notes of cherry, forest floor, and a hint of black pepper. It is the wine of the earth – unpretentious, sturdy, and full of character. Together, they offer a lesson in terroir: how soil, climate, and tradition shape not just taste, but identity. To drink them, especially on harvest days when the grapes are still warm from the sun, is to celebrate the labour of the land and cycles of abundance that sustain us.
And the grey zone: psilocybin truffles. I’ll let you in on a secret. In Europe, psilocybin mushroom (i.e. the flowering part) is not legal, but the truffles are. It is a strange legal distinction, though it invites a nuanced conversation about what we permit, what we prohibit, and why. The truffle is known as the sclerotium (hardened, nutrient-dense mass that forms underground) which contains the same psychoactive compounds as the mushroom but in a different physical form.
Psilocybin has been used for centuries in indigenous healing traditions, not for escapism, but for introspection that quiets the ego, dissolves mental blocks, and reconnects with deep consciousness. Modern research is now validating what ancient cultures have long known: psilocybin, when held in safe and intentional settings, can alleviate treatment-resistant depression, reduce anxiety in terminally ill patients, and help individuals break free from entrenched patterns of thought.
In microdoses, these truffles do not produce hallucinations. They gently shift perception, helping us see patterns in life that we might otherwise miss. I emphasise again – they are tools for clarity, not escapism. They ask us to sit with discomfort, to listen to the body, and to honour the interconnectedness of all things. In this way, they align beautifully with the spirit of the retreat: to recover what is most fundamental – trust, presence and a sense of belonging.
This is the grey zone where ESG policymaking often fails, struggling with ambiguity and the messy interface between regulation and human experience. Community retreat spaces, if held with integrity, can hold space for that ambiguity. They offer a container where we can explore these grey areas with curiosity, not fear. Where we can freely ask what it means to be human and what it means to heal.
You Are Invited
I am writing this to say: you are invited. Not to invest (yet). But to dream with me. To imagine what it would look like to align capital with community, profit with purpose, and policy with poetry.
This retreat is not about escape. It is about re-entering our lives with more clarity, more connection and more courage. It is about living the S in ESG through social fabric, community resilience, mental health and cultural preservation.
If this sparks something in you – if you like the idea of morning chants, afternoon sand, evening cacao – let's talk. Not about spreadsheets, but about the world that ESG capitalists can build together.
About the Author
Joanne Tay is co-founder of Fink Analytics LLP, where she bridges ESG data with human-centred governance. She writes on policy, sustainability and innovations that start with a dream.