The Portrait does not tell you how ecological you are.
It puts words around something you already knew but had never named.
Nothing to pass. Nothing to prove. The Portrait reflects. It does not score.
You begin the Portrait without knowing yet how the parts will fit together. The questions feel familiar. Almost recognisable. There is no right answer to search for. You just notice what feels true, and something begins to settle.
Over the questions, a shape comes into view. Not a verdict. A composition. You are not trying to be better. You are just being honest about what is already there.
Then the Portrait comes back to you in a quiet document. Reading it, you begin to recognise things you had never named. Patterns that were always there. Choices that suddenly make more sense. Something inside you responds quietly: yes, that is me. That moment is not a nice extra. It is the mechanism. It is what makes the Portrait work.
The Portrait starts with what you already know. What you feel. What matters to you. There is no time pressure. No right direction. You move at your own pace.
Then the questions go a little deeper. They look at five core constructs of how you relate to the world around you. What you feel. What you value. Where you sense capacity and where hope still moves. How time has shaped you. What your context enables or limits. And underneath all five — the thread that connects them.
At some point it comes together. Not as a number. Not as a label. As a picture. A landscape of how things connect for you. Specific enough to recognise yourself in. Open enough to keep exploring.
About thirty minutes. No timer.
You are not reduced to one answer. The Portrait looks from different angles until something takes shape. You might recognise yourself more in one construct than another. That is part of it. Nothing needs to be balanced. Nothing needs to be fixed. Only seen.
And then there is the thread that runs through all five.
When you stand far enough back, the constructs stop being five things and become one shape.
That shape is what the Portrait reflects.
Next to your Portrait reading sits the Inner Field Map: a quiet visual of how the five clusters of your inner landscape gather and connect in your own words. Five concentric rings (Felt Relationship inside, Context and Systems outside) hold the accent points your answers leave behind.
It does not score. It does not type. It shows the same picture your Portrait text describes, in another voice.
After the questions, a document comes back to you. It is called Your Portrait. It holds three things, and none of them is a number.
A quiet moment where something becomes clear. Not because it is new, but because it is finally visible to you. You see something about yourself that was always there. That moment is not a nice addition. It is what makes the whole Portrait work.
A way to see how things fit together for you. Where your ecological identity feels rich. Where it is thin. Where there is tension between what you value and how you live. Not a hierarchy. A landscape.
Words for something you already felt. So you can recognise it again tomorrow. And maybe talk about it, with yourself or with someone close to you. Not jargon. Your own vocabulary for who you are, ecologically.
Read more about the document → /your-portrait/
There are no right answers. No timer. No pass or fail. The Portrait reflects what you bring to it. Nothing more, nothing less.
The Portrait does not produce a number. It produces a landscape. A score would flatten exactly what matters.
The Portrait does not put you in a category. Your ecological identity is uniquely configured. No two Portraits look the same.
The Portrait does not measure your ecological impact. It maps who you are, not what you do. Impact is behaviour. The Portrait is identity.
Your Portrait is never compared to anyone else's. No percentages. No averages. No “people like you”. It is yours alone.
These five are not a ladder, and not five versions of the same thing. The Portrait is the free first picture. The others go closer, fuller, wider, or deeper, each into a different kind of room. None of them ranks you, scores you, or hands you a verdict. Each gives you back who you are in the living world, in your own words.
Your first clear picture of who you are in the living world. About twenty minutes, no account, free, and complete on its own.
A picture of yourself in your own words: what you care about, where you feel pulled two ways, where you seem to stand right now. No number, no ranking, nothing to live up to.
You answer a set of honest questions at your own pace, and watch your own answers become something you recognise. Most people sit a second longer at the end than they meant to.
A closer reading inside one area of your life: Food, Mobility, Work, Home, Relationships, Nature, or Money. You choose the one that pulls at you.
A close look at who you are in the living world inside that single part of life, the one where the gap between what you value and what your days allow feels sharpest, or the one you have quietly never looked at.
You take one Domain at a time, when it calls, and follow your own sense of yourself into that one room. The Money you rarely open. The Food you choose without guilt. You learn something about your own values there, never get judged there.
The synthesis. Not one more area, but the reading across all the Domains at once, and how they move together over time.
A standing artefact that holds the whole: where your areas of life pull the same way, where they pull apart, and how the shape of you is changing. The growing-together that no single Domain can show you on its own.
You let the separate readings come into one view and sit with what they say together. This is where "I am like this here and different there" stops being a contradiction and starts being a landscape you can see whole.
Your free Portrait, given far more room. The same reflection, the same data, written out fuller. Not more measurement, more space.
A richer, fuller narrative of who you already are, with questions shaped to the choices you actually face, and a lasting place to keep it and return to. It holds back nothing the free Portrait keeps from you; it simply lets the same truth breathe.
You go back through your own reflection with the lights up and the room larger, and stay with what surfaces. The first Portrait is whole. This is a choice you make for more room, not a part you were missing.
The lived-and-shared reading. Who you are in the living world not first recognised, but inhabited, and held in common with the people around you. The ripest member of the family, made for Inhabit.
A reading of how this already lives in your ordinary days and in your closest relationships: your shared ground, and what you want to give back. The question is no longer "what is this in me?" but "how does this live, with others, in my days?"
You take it once and it is yours, the way the others are. Meeting it again later, after life has moved, is a fresh reading you choose. It reads the part of you that has settled in deepest and reaches furthest into the people you love.
A small note on names. The Rooted Portrait is an artefact you take and keep, a reading of the lived-and-shared dimension. The Rooted Practices (inside the Homeground membership) are a quiet daily attention you live with. Same root word, two different things: one you hold, one you live.
Nothing to prepare. Just a moment where you are willing to look. Whatever you see is yours, and it stays yours. Permanently.