I start my day in the shower using soap from the United States, eventually drying myself off with a towel from Turkey or Pakistan, and then I shave using shaving cream from Canada.
I dress myself with clothes from Vietnam, Malaysia, or Bangladesh (all of which were washed in a washer and dryer from the United States), before heading to work in my vehicle made in Japan.
Before departing I grab my headphones and cell phone that were made in Vietnam, both of which were charging through an electrical outlet made in China that is connected to Romex wiring in my walls made in the United States. That wiring attaches to an electrical panel from either the United States, Mexico, or China.
I bring a lunch to work each day. In my kitchen I find limes and asparagus from Mexico, kiwi from Italy, chia seeds from Paraguay, Ramen from China, potatoes from Canada, quinoa from Peru, and bananas from Guatemala, all of which are stored in appliances and cabinets from the United States.
I use my cutting knives from India to prepare my meals, which I cook on cookware from the United States when I’m using the stovetop, or on a baking sheet from China (with a silicon baking sheet from France) in the oven. If I’m packing for work I’ll store my food in Tupperware from the United States that goes into a lunch bag made in Vietnam, but if I’m eating at home I’ll use plates from Indonesia and bowls from China.
Hey, look, I also found a bottle of water from Fiji hiding in the back of the pantry (more on the absurdity of this particular product in a future post).
What else can we find?
My workshop has drills from Japan, nails from India, nail guns from the United States, and a chainsaw from Germany.
I write draft posts on a legal pad made in India (or in a notebook from the Philippines), with a pen from Tunisia, before typing those words on a keyboard made in China connected to a computer made in Vietnam. I typically store my computer, legal pad, notebook, and pens in one of a few bags I own that were made in the Philippines.
For those who lost track, that is 21 unique countries spanning 6 continents.
I can connect with someone across the planet in less time than it takes me to walk next door to say hello to my neighbor.
The oxygen that my lungs are absorbing in this very moment – molecules are physical things, after all – came from air that ignores the arbitrary lines we draw on our fancy maps. It came from somewhere on this planet, but that’s slightly harder to pinpoint.
We are one world.
Earth must come first.
The transition will be rough – but inevitable.
Get on board.


