My Nervous System Was Not Designed for Modern Life
I think I’m a cavewoman dressed in modern yoga pants. I’m still gathering, but now it’s called grocery shopping. I would rather barter than pay a small fortune for gas. I mean, what am I talking about? I’m a self-made thousandaire.
People, it’s 2026, if I’m not getting a hoverboard, I at least deserve one emotionally supportive robot husband. After five minutes on a dating app, I’m convinced evolution is reversible.
I wasn’t built to create 32 passwords and immediately forget every single one. I was meant to wing it. Who needs cybersecurity? I’m just going to put it out there, every password from now on is just going to be nina50!!!!!!!!
That’s right, if you want to break into my email account, could you reply to some of the pressing items that look like they may be life or death issues? Like, I haven’t given our accountant the stock market information because we got an extension, but could you just go ahead and gather that information?
Hunting and gathering, we are doing it with machine guns and credit cards, but now we are not looking for food. We are looking around for food for our souls, isn’t that the real modern search that’s disguised as a quest for a lot of money and a little love?
We used to sit around a fire and shoot the shit. I used to do that at camp when I was a kid. Nowadays, we sit in the same room staring at separate glowing rectangles pretending we’re still together.
I used to teach at a local college and noticed something really interesting in the hallways. Students were not talking to each other; everyone was on their phone. Everyone. They weren’t hanging out in groups like I remember we did when I was in college. It was eerie.
I went to a wedding a few years ago, and at one point, every single person at my table was on their phone. Every single one. I think I was the only one who noticed. I may have been the only one who cared.
There are moments when I’m on my computer, checking my phone, watching TV, and tracking my stress level on a smart watch all at the same time. Then the watch politely informs me that I appear stressed.
I’m a really bad athlete, but I want to play tennis like I did when I was a kid. I want to touch something tangible, like a ball, and move my body. When I was in elementary school, I used to play tennis with the wall of the house and then sometimes with my best friend at a nearby tennis court. We didn’t play video games; we played Madonna records and danced almost every single day.
I found out decades later that my childhood best friend had mysteriously died. I don’t have the heart to call her father and ask how she died. I assume all kinds of things: drug overdose, AIDS, suicide. I’d rather not know how this modern world killed her.
We were so happy as kids, we played Monopoly for days on end. We started a band and played guitar with our tennis rackets. I wonder, if she were still alive, would we just be Facebook friends now?
How many Instagram or Facebook friends do you have? How many real friends do you actually hang out with?
Remember playing. Just that one word: I’m going to go play now. Why did we stop doing that as adults? I had a rather inventive and creative cousin, who would design very intricate games for us to play make-believe. He once took all my mom’s perfumes and put them together in a potion and poured them down my life-size doll's mouth.
The weird kids often become the adults who build the future. He’s one of the few genuine geniuses I’ve ever met. If it weren’t for his odd and creative ideas as a child, he might not have been able to be such a successful person.
Today, two-year-olds can operate a smartphone better than my mother can. When we were kids, my dad said that we watched too much TV.
Why weren’t we playing outside more, he would ask. In his generation in India, that’s all they did. They played outside all day with literal sticks and stones. They didn’t even have many toys back in the day.
I wouldn’t be surprised if now a child’s first words are, “Where’s my phone?”
Now we buy fun, we buy video games and high-tech toys, but somewhere in the back of our minds, that cave person mentality is seeking connection. Our hearts still want to sing, yell, and shout for no reason.
Maybe our brains never caught up with the machines.
Call me barbaric, but I need to scream, really scream. I don’t know where to do it or how to do it without causing alarm. I suspect I’m not the only one. We need to collectively have a moment not of silence, but a moment of screaming.
nina
A couple of friends and I started a podcast called 2 Curries and a Ranch. Listen here: https://2curriesandaranch.riverside.com/ or wherever you get your podcasts.
Imagine two loud, dramatic, hilarious Indian women explaining to a white man what it's like to grow up and live in America. Join us for laughter, deep thoughts, and witty banter about life, love and culture. We tell it like it is, with honest, bold and funny stories, discussions and arguments. We explore boundaries and challenge norms. Join us for a good talk.
We have a new episode coming out: We Lost Nina!
Join us as we navigate losing Nina in the middle of our podcast and then discuss some serious philosophical issues. Then we go back to some humorous chats about everything and nothing!