Such a Damn Good Feeling
“This is such a damn good feeling — to be happy to be home. It’s SUCH a privilege.”
A friend of mine said this in a voice note as she landed back in Berlin. She had flown to visit me in Arizona while I was spending time with friends and family. I’d hoped she would visit me in my new home in Nicaragua, but life, rainy season, and the fact that flights to the U.S. were oddly cheap right now (I have thoughts… cue eye roll) made Berlin → Arizona the more practical choice.
To say I had trepidation is an understatement. No matter how hopeful I feel or how much I meditate in the days leading up, returning to the U.S. always stirs up old, unresolved stuff — bubbling up like a kombucha that’s been tossed around in my bag like a bowling ball. One twist of the cap and boom: emotional eruption. And that’s just the internal family systems. I hadn’t even begun to consider what Trump-merica might stir up in me.
I warned her that things might get weird, but she promised we’d have fun regardless, laugh like pigs, and make memories.
And memories we made. She got the full American welcome within 24 hours: wandering Walmart aisles with icy drinks in plastic cups, shivering inside every over-air-conditioned building, the works.
I haven’t lived in the U.S. in over a decade, and so much has changed — most of all, the automation. Giant tablets have replaced cashiers at nearly every restaurant. Driverless cars replace Ubers and taxis. Apps replace any remaining form of human interaction.
It used to be that if you didn’t want to talk to people, you stayed home. Now you can move through an entire day — run errands, check out your own groceries, order your own meal — without speaking to a single human being.
The Price We Pay for Convenience in America? Connection.
The longer I live in Nicaragua, the more I appreciate the life I’ve built away from the States. But it wasn’t until my friend expressed how good it felt to come home that I felt the weight of that privilege in my bones. I touch on this in my book, Exiting the Matrix, but this was the first time since moving to Berlin nearly ten years ago that I truly, viscerally understood it.
Travel gives us perspective. It shows us how similar we all are — and how backwards some of our norms can be. I’m grateful I’ve spent time in places where capitalism isn’t the ruling force, because it’s helped me see what truly makes a life meaningful: connection to nature, connection to like-hearted souls, and connection to my most authentic self.