“How’s America Chris? How are you adjusting? ”
In 2018 I sold everything I owned, left Austin for Bali and declared, ‘I’m never coming back.’ After living in Indonesia the past four years, I came back. Those four years in Indo were filled with so much love, comfort, and entrepreneurial creativity — until it all came crashing down. A failed media company, the sudden death of my sister, mounting narcissistic abuse from my mother, and the final blow, a financial betrayal I can’t disclose, led me to one life altering decision: Move back to America and get my shit together. My best friend Kristina is housing me now and helping me get back on my feet.
It’s been a month, and I’ve finally been able to process this move enough to write about it.
In the first two weeks, I wanted to cry every time I thought about my dogs back in Bali. I missed the comfort of my cozy home on Jl Raya Semer, the home I could call my own. I missed Anita’s daily visits, and I only hoped she never felt that I’d abandoned her.
Luckily, Kristina kept me busy by locking me into her crazy schedule. In my first four days in the states, we went to a concert, the VA, Costco, her mom’s house, Walmart, dinner with her high school friends, dinner with her nursing school friends, Trader Joes, lunch with her coworkers, and my favorite: Goodwill. We also ran every day because she was training for a marathon. Okay, she ran, and I tried to find my way back to the house as soon as she was out of sight.
My new living situation is pretty sweet. Kristina, unlike myself, is a real grownup. She bought a house, and it’s incredibly cozy and well decorated. I’m now staying in the guest bedroom and when I look around I can’t believe how lucky I am to be this broke yet this comfortable. I also couldn’t ask for a better living partner. Kristina and I exercise together, binge watch romcoms together, and have giggle fits like every fifteen minutes.
There were a few adjustments I had to embrace.
I’m just going to say it, Kristina has an obsessive compulsive cleanliness disorder. I will admit, however, that I grew up in Indonesia with two maids, a gardener and a driver — and that I do not have the most attentive eyes to dust and grime. For the two of us to be housemates — or should I say, for me to be a tenant in the home upon which she is the landlord — would definitely be a recipe for disaster.
But I completely accepted my position as a guest in my best friend’s house, and I understood that things were to be done her way:
Cat litter must be scooped four times a day, these blinds get opened but these stay like this, no wipe down the counter with this cloth not that paper towel, oh Chris don’t you notice this stain on the stove, do you really not see it? Coaster! Coaster! Fluff the pillows please.
One time, I put the bedsheets where the towels were supposed to be (one shelf below), and she quoted the entire first chapter of “Spark Joy” to me.
She was doing her best to be patient with me, although I could always notice a hint of boiling rage simmering beneath her left eyebrow whenever it arched up just a centimeter higher than her right. Usually when I forgot to use a coaster for the seventh time that day.
Every time I felt a pang of annoyance — a childish “I did vacuum that corner” or “I swear I turned every light off and stumbled up the stairs in the dark to save on electricity” — I reminded myself I was a guest, the luckiest guest in the world. I acquiesced into complete subordinance, and I would advise the same for anyone who ever finds themself in my position.
Kristina was opening her home to me completely. Kristina was helping me restart my life, and I only hope I can repay her one day. She wasn’t asking for financial compensation, and she refused my pathetic attempts to pay for groceries with my green Permata debit card. She drove me to my medical appointments at the VA an hour away, then filled up her gas tank at $6 a gallon. Who even gets lucky enough to have a friend like that?
Of course I didn’t feel I deserved any of this kindness. A heavy guilt was eating me up inside. But what other option did I have at the moment than to accept her altruism, and follow The Plan.
I had to follow The Plan step by step to get to the other side of this damsel in distress narrative, and The Plan went like this:
- Be the perfect housemate. Cook healthy meals, learn how to garden. Youtube ‘what are weeds and why do Americans hate them so much’.
- Get a job. No — get jobs. I shouldn’t have time to scroll on Instagram if I don’t have a job lined up already. Get an easy customer service job where I will quickly get hired. Then I’ll have some money coming in while I continue to apply for more competitive roles in content marketing.
- Get proof of residency. Bye Texas, you’ll always be my number one okay I’m only doing this for the money.
- Get a California drivers license.
- Get free money from the government. Apply for food stamps, so I can pay for groceries. Apply for cash aid, so I can pay for utility bills.
- Use the VA Services. Get therapy, it’s only a matter of time before my unhealed traumas surface in an unpleasant way. We’re adults now, we can prevent problems instead of picking up the pieces with our new gardening gloves. Get hearing aids, so I can work anywhere without anxiety and shame. Get some drugs, because why not, this is America. Just kidding I don’t want the drugs…but they sure are free and plentiful.
- Get a car. This country is designed around cars. Screw public transport, screw city planning, screw being able to get from one place to another without spending all your money on gas. In America, you need a damn car. And once I get a car, my overall confidence and level of self-worth will drastically improve.
- WRITE.
- WRITE BETTER.
- At this point I should already have gotten the jobs, the car, the money, and then… No And Then!
No more thinking that moving to America, or moving back to Indonesia, or starting a new life in Europe will finally make me happy.
Because after all the basic needs have been fulfilled — job, money, car, food, housing, social companionship, creative outlets — The ‘If ______, Then I’ll be happy’ axiom becomes a surefire path towards lifelong suffering.
Because even though I dream of moving to Lisbon one day, I could die tomorrow and that future might never exist in this lifetime.
Because right now, I’m living with my best friend again after 10 years apart, and it’s so much freaking fun.
Right now — this period that I often describe as a ’transition’ — is the only ‘right now’ I have, and I want to be present in it completely, with no longing of the past or yearning for the future. I’m resting at a beautiful yellow light.
You always hear people talking about mindfulness and being present, but what does that really mean? Well, I’ve been really putting it into practice lately, and here’s what it means for me.
When I’m scooping the cat litter, I thank the Universe that there are two adorable cats here to cuddle with when Kristina’s at work and I feel lonely. When I scrub the dishes, I marvel at the endless stream of hot water running through my fingers. When I read those examples now it sounds so lame, but what I’m trying to describe is what Rev. Briana Lynn calls the Miracles in the Mundane.
Here’s her interview with Blu on youtube for a deep dive on this subject.
Briana Lynn asks you if, in these simple, often tedious moments when no one is around, “can you source your own happiness?” She says that the miracles in the mundane are actually very relaxing on our nervous system, because we’re not needing to protect or prove ourselves. It’s vulnerability. And you stop missing life as it’s happening.
So to reflect on the question, ‘How’s America Chris how are you adjusting?’, I would answer that I’ve been celebrating the miracles in the mundane. Finally.
I’ve accepted the sort of limbo, ‘starting from scratch’ position I’m in. I’ve accepted that I’m not where I imagined I’d be at 34 years old, and that I’ll likely never achieve all the goals I’ve set for myself in this lifetime. I can still have a vision, and not be attached to the results.
I’m not running away anymore, I’m not running towards anything either. I’m here, now. :)
