Bright Lights: Steven Nygren Builds Community, Connection, & Hope at Serenbe

On the edge of Atlanta sits a wellness-focused community called Serenbe—a neighborhood planned around walkability, protected green space, and a more intentional sense of community.

The idea began with Steve Nygren, a former hospitality executive who moved to the area seeking a quieter, more connected way of life for his family. When he saw signs of suburban sprawl approaching, he began to imagine a different kind of development—one that could grow while preserving the land and the values that drew him to the area in the first place.

Nygren grew up on Colorado’s Front Range, surrounded by extended family who had lived there for generations. His Scandinavian ancestors helped build the local church and school, and faith and community were constants of daily life.

“Everyone knew one another’s stories,” he says. “It was a place where people showed up for each other. You grew up knowing what community meant.”

Nygren attended the University of Colorado Boulder, while he worked part-time for Stouffer’s. The hospitality industry quickly captured his attention. Before long, he was doing so well that he left school to pursue the opportunity full-time.

He rose through the ranks at Stouffer’s, helping develop hotels and restaurants across the country and abroad. Those years in hospitality exposed him to countless ways of living and gathering—and deepened his understanding of how food and community connect people. Eventually, he founded the Peasant Restaurants Group, which grew to more than 35 restaurants in eight states before it was sold to a national chain.

No matter how far his work took him, the ideals of connection and community he’d known as a child remained with him. After years of long hours and constant travel, he wanted more time with his wife, Marie, and their three daughters. They bought 60 acres at the end of a road in Georgia’s Chattahoochee Hill Country, about 30 miles southwest of downtown Atlanta, where they could live closer to nature.

“I didn’t want to raise my girls in the city,” he says. “We wanted them to feel what it was like to grow up connected to the land, the way I did.”

Protecting What He Loved

But the way of life he wanted to share with his children was quickly threatened. “One morning, I looked out and saw surveyor stakes on the property next to ours,” he said. “I realized if we didn’t get involved, the beauty that had drawn us here would disappear.”

Nygren set out to protect what made the area special and to prove that growth didn’t have to mean sprawl. He started working with the county to change how land could be developed. His idea was simple but unconventional: Instead of dividing land into large lots, new homes could be clustered together, leaving most of the surrounding landscape untouched.

He began meeting with planners, lawyers, and other professionals to explore how zoning might support this kind of development. But few shared his vision—and traditional investors weren’t interested in something they couldn’t easily quantify. To keep the idea alive, Nygren sought out people who were thinking differently about the relationship between land, design, and community.

Through the Rocky Mountain Institute, he connected with Phill Tabb, Ph.D., whose doctoral research on the English village system and training in sacred geometry offered both practical and philosophical grounding. “It’s about understanding the balance in the energy fields,” Nygren explains. “So much of what’s going on today is a disturbance of the land. We are imposing development instead of developing with the land.”

Working with local and state officials, he helped change zoning and land-use laws to protect large areas of green space while still allowing thoughtful growth. That effort evolved into the Chattahoochee Hill Country Alliance, bringing together landowners, developers, and conservationists to plan for about 60 square miles of preserved countryside and sustainable community.

“The ancient civilizations understood that balance,” he says. “Whether they were building cathedrals or pyramids, they honored the land.” For Nygren, that belief became the foundation for everything that followed.

Developing with the Land

With new zoning in place, Nygren turned to his own land as a model for what conservation-based growth could look like. He began assembling a small team to imagine how homes, farms, and green spaces could coexist while honoring the natural contours of the land.

By involving a broad mix of voices, from agriculture to the arts, he hoped to create a place where creativity, wellness, and sustainability were as essential as the buildings themselves. “If we could show it was possible,” he says, “then maybe others would try it too. I knew the idea was worth proving.”

When construction began in 2004, the response was immediate. “I couldn’t build streets fast enough,” he recalls. Then came the 2008 recession. “Everything came to an abrupt stop. But we lived through that, and by 2012, bankers and analysts realized that walkable, environmentally focused communities were the first to step out of the recession.”

Even then, defining Serenbe wasn’t simple. It didn’t fully match new urbanism or farm-focused community models. Eventually, Nygren landed on the term that fit: biophilic design—a philosophy rooted in living systems and connection to nature.

Living in Connection

Today, about 1,200 people of all ages live at Serenbe. Neighbors wave at one another, children play outside, and older residents walk the trails. “You’ll see our free-range kids and our uncaged elders,” Nygren says with a smile. “People can actually feel it when you’re in a relationship with nature and with each other.”

That experience inspired Start in Your Own Backyard, Nygren’s first book. It expands on the philosophy behind Serenbe, offering readers practical ways to create healthier, more connected communities wherever they live.

“Rather than worrying about what you have no control over, what are the things that are in your area of influence that need to be changed?” he asks. “And what are your talents to change that?”

One person, he believes, can make a difference. “The most important thing is the first step,” he notes, “because once you start, you begin to see the next step.”

He hopes his book will encourage people to act, whether that means planting native gardens, reducing chemicals in their yards, or running for local office. At Serenbe, the results are visible every day.

“We have 240 kids living here full-time, and not one reported sign of asthma,” he points out. “That’s statistically impossible in the United States. And it doesn’t cost more. In fact, you save money by not putting all these chemicals and noise into where you live.”

A Legacy of Care

When asked about his legacy, Nygren called his grandson, who had been playing nearby, to his side. “Some of the greatest legacies,” he notes, “are the grandchildren and the kids growing up at Serenbe. They’re stepping into the world as different kids.”

He hopes the next generations carry forward the same curiosity and care that built the Serenbe community. “The legacy will be that we asked the hard questions and did something about it,” he says. “We created a model that others can study, answering a lot of the questions that keep people from doing this—whether it’s financial reasons, pessimism, or just believing it can’t work.”

This article appeared in the March/April 2026 issue of Spirituality & Health: A Unity Publication^®. Subscribe now.