There isn’t one simple reason it’s so difficult to immigrate to the United States today — it’s a combination of policy decisions, legal limits, political standoffs, administrative backlogs, and changing enforcement priorities. Here’s a clear breakdown of the key factors shaping the current situation:
🇺🇸 1.
Strict Legal Limits and Caps on Visas
The U.S. immigration system is built around fixed visa categories (family-sponsored, employment-based, refugee, etc.) with annual numerical caps. These caps haven’t been significantly updated in decades, even as global demand for U.S. visas has soared. That means long waits — sometimes years or decades — especially for family and employment categories from high-demand countries.
The rules are narrow in who qualifies, with only limited spots each year.
🧑⚖️ 2.
Huge Backlogs and Slow Processing
Immigration agencies (like USCIS and the immigration courts) are overwhelmed. There are millions of pending cases, particularly for asylum seekers, green card applicants, and work permits. Some asylum cases are taking many years just to be decided.
Backlogs slow the entire system and make legal immigration unpredictable and expensive.
🧾 3.
Complex, Costly, and Changing Rules
The paperwork, fees, and legal requirements for visas and citizenship have grown much more complex over time. Forms are longer, eligibility criteria are stricter, and legal standards have shifted — often making it harder to qualify.
Many people need lawyers just to navigate the process.
🪪 4.
Recent Policy Changes Tightening Access
In early 2026, the U.S. government suspended immigrant visa processing for citizens of 75 countries — a major new restriction that blocks many people from beginning the legal immigration process at all.
This policy is framed around “public charge” concerns (whether immigrants might use public benefits), but critics say it dramatically reduces legal immigration and affects many families.
🛂 5.
Political Gridlock and Lack of Comprehensive Reform
Immigration reform has stalled in Congress for decades. Since fundamental immigration laws were last overhauled in the 1980s and 1990s, demand and global conditions have changed drastically — but the law itself hasn’t kept up.
Presidents can make some changes by executive action, but only Congress can change the core rules that set visa numbers and categories.
🚧 6.
Asylum and Border Policy Complications
Policies around asylum (seeking protection from persecution) have recently been tightened, paused, or complicated by new regulations. That’s added to case backlogs and uncertainty for those seeking safety in the U.S.
📊 7.
High Demand vs. Limited Capacity
Simply put: many more people want to move to the U.S. than there are legal pathways available. The U.S. is a wealthy, prosperous country with many opportunities — so demand is enormous — but the system is capped and constrained.
That means long lines, stringent criteria, and a perception of “difficulty” even for people who qualify.
🧠 8.
Political and Social Debates
Immigration is a deeply polarizing political issue. Different administrations and lawmakers emphasize border security, economic concerns, cultural integration, or humanitarian commitments in different ways — and when there’s no consensus, that often results in restrictive policies rather than broad reform.
📌 Bottom Line
Immigrating to the U.S. is difficult today because:
The legal system sets strict limits and narrow criteria.
Backlogs and processing delays are huge.
Recent policy changes have tightened access.
There’s been little major legislative reform.
Demand far outstrips supply of visas.
All of these factors combine to create long waits, unpredictable outcomes, and a complicated path for many people trying to make the U.S. their home.
Is it because of Trump?
Short answer: Trump is part of the reason — but not the whole reason.
But the difficulty you’re seeing now is the result of layered effects over decades, not just one administration.
What Trump
did
change (and why it still matters)
During Trump’s presidency (2017–2021), immigration policy shifted sharply toward restriction:
1.
Intentional Slowdowns
USCIS processing was deliberately slowed
More interviews, more evidence requests, more denials
Fewer approvals even for people who clearly qualified
This created massive backlogs that still haven’t been fully cleared.
2.
Executive Restrictions
Travel bans
Narrower asylum standards
Expanded “public charge” rules (harder for poorer immigrants)
Reduced refugee admissions
Even when later administrations reversed some of these, bureaucratic damage lingers.
Think of it like clogging an artery — removing the blockage doesn’t instantly restore full flow.
But here’s the key thing most people miss
🔑
Congress sets the core immigration law
Visa caps
Categories
Country limits
Quotas frozen since the 1990s
Presidents do not control the structure of the system — they only adjust enforcement and interpretation.
So even without Trump:
There are still far fewer legal slots than applicants
Some waits are 20–30 years
The system is fundamentally outdated
Why it’s STILL hard
now
Even after Trump:
Backlogs are historically high
Courts and USCIS are understaffed
Immigration is politically radioactive
Congress refuses to update the system
Every administration ends up managing scarcity instead of fixing it.
The honest bottom line
Trump made immigration harder and slower
The damage wasn’t fully undone
But the system was already broken long before him
And Congress has failed to fix it for 30+ years
So blaming Trump alone is inaccurate —
but pretending he had no effect is also wrong.
So what is the simplest reason
The simplest reason is this:
Too many people want to move to the U.S., and the law only allows a small, fixed number to come — and that number hasn’t changed in decades.
That’s it.
Everything else is secondary.
In one sentence
The U.S. immigration system is artificially scarce by law, and politicians manage that scarcity instead of fixing it.
Stripped down even further
Demand = massive
Legal slots = capped
Caps = outdated
Backlogs = inevitable
Politics = frozen
So the system jams.
Why this feels worse
now
Backlogs piled up
Processing slowed
Enforcement got stricter
Reversing damage takes years
But the root cause never changed.
Final truth (no spin)
If the U.S. updated visa caps to match reality, immigration would feel dramatically easier overnight — regardless of who’s president.
I never really considered how big of a deal it is to be an American citizen
That realization actually makes a lot of sense — most people who are citizens don’t fully feel it until they zoom out.
Here’s the clearest way to understand why it’s such a big deal:
Being an American citizen is invisible power
When you’re born into it, citizenship feels normal. Boring, even. But in reality it gives you:
The right to live and work in one of the world’s largest economies
Legal permanence — no visa expiration, no renewals, no fear of removal
Political voice (voting, protest, speech protections)
Mobility — one of the strongest passports in the world
Due process protections that non-citizens simply don’t have
Most people don’t notice these things because nothing is actively threatening them.
Citizenship matters most when you
don’t
have it
For non-citizens, everyday life can include:
Waiting years just to be allowed to stay
Fear that a paperwork issue could uproot their entire life
Inability to leave the country without risking not being allowed back
No vote, limited legal protections, and constant uncertainty
So when people protest, they’re often reacting to that fragility — the fact that millions of people live productive, rooted lives here but exist on conditional permission.
Why this hits differently once you see it
You’re someone who:
Travels
Thinks globally
Understands systems (Bitcoin, sovereignty, self-custody, etc.)
So once you notice it, citizenship starts to look like:
State-granted sovereignty over your own life
That’s not small. That’s enormous.
The quiet truth
American citizenship is powerful not because America is perfect —
but because it removes uncertainty.
And uncertainty is one of the most psychologically expensive things a human can live under.
This morning I’m thinking about photography as a way of being. The somatic experience of photography is what excites me. Just being out in the world — feeling the sun on your skin, enjoying the sights, the sounds, the smells of the streets, tasting the street. This, to me, is what it’s all about.
In order to make a photograph, you have to move your physical body. And when you look at the word motivation — deriving from movere, to move — the first step to making a photograph, to being motivated, is moving. Motivation isn’t some external force pushing you or guiding you. It’s your two legs, your two feet, connected to your spine. You’ve got a brain on top of your head, eyes looking around, perceiving the world, making pictures.
I don’t think we need to be so caught up in a rational mindset or approach to the streets. I actually think the gut is more intelligent than the brain. Recognizing the physical nature of life — and engaging with photography in a more embodied way — is what guides me. I obey my gut. I don’t really think. I just shoot.
I believe the vagus nerve, connected from our gut to our brain and carrying all this information, is much more intelligent than our conscious mind. When I’m in the street, in the world, I’m fasted. I don’t have food digesting in my belly. I believe fasting heightens my intuition and allows me to see and perceive the world with clarity.
By embracing this way of working — where I’m empty — I become a vessel for the medium. I allow myself to be receptive to all my senses. To touch. To smell. To feel everything bodily. Once I’m aligned physically, everything else falls into place.
I believe the only life worth living is a life full of vitality. A life full of energy and power. That overflow of vitality is what fuels me creatively. Without vitality, there is no curiosity. Think about waking up sluggish after a bad night of sleep. How are you going to get out of bed and make anything?
At the forefront of our practice, it’s important to recognize the somatic experience of life — the bodily sensation of feeling — and to fuel yourself with physical power and vitality.
On a practical level, that means deep sleep. Going to bed early. Waking up at dawn and catching the sunrise. Being outside. Walking throughout the day in the spirit of play so that I can create.
Making a photograph is a physical act. Composition is physical. You can have ideas like the rule of thirds, leading lines, and all the jargon in your head, but ultimately it’s about physically positioning yourself in relation to a moment, to a background. When you click the shutter, intuitively, from instinct — that primal gut feeling — that’s what creates the photograph.
Walking, moving, clicking the shutter rushes my body with dopamine. It feels good. When I walk, I feel joyous. When I follow my bliss and embrace the physical nature of life, that overflowing vitality fuels my curiosity and spills into the work I create.
Photography requires recognizing the somatic experience. Not thinking so rationally or dogmatically. Being present. Grounded. Letting life flow toward you while you’re prepared with your camera as a vessel. You don’t have to do anything. You don’t have to try to say anything.
We should only focus on what’s in our control. What we’re in control of is moving our body. Walking more. The more you walk, the more you see. The more you see, the more you photograph. The more you photograph, the more curious you become — increasing curiosity by 1% each day.
Whether you come home with a good or bad photo is out of your control. What you are in control of is being here, now, walking through life with your camera.
Photography, for me, is a way of being. It’s a way of saying yes to life. A way of grounding myself in everyday experience. The somatic experience — the bodily sensation of walking through life — is what fuels me creatively. It all stems from physiological health and vitality.
Now let’s catch the sunrise. Beautiful, beautiful morning. I can catch the sunrise right here.
Freestyle vlogging is pure because you remove control. Maybe writing is easier to control and so by just speaking out loud it becomes the fastest way to express or articulate your ideas.
This morning I want to talk about the somatic experience of photography. Photography as a way of being.
I believe photography has nothing to do with photography.
At its core, photography is a physical experience. It’s downstream from the body. Vitality precedes vision. Before seeing clearly, before intuition, before making photographs, there has to be life in the body.
When I’m out in the world photographing, I’m walking. I’m moving. I’m observing the sights, the sounds, the smells of the street. Photography happens while the body is in motion. The click of the shutter releases dopamine. There are real physiological effects to making pictures.
Walking is the foundation of the practice.
Motivation comes from movement. The word motivation comes from movere, meaning to move. Motivation doesn’t come from some external force. It comes from your legs. It comes from vitality. When you move your body, you move your mind. Your mind connects to your eyes, and that allows you to photograph.
The more you hone in on the physical nature of the practice, the sharper your mind becomes. The sharper your eyes become. Intuition follows.
The body is the temple. I treat my body like a vessel, like it doesn’t belong to me. Like it belongs to God. The body is the cathedral.
On a practical level, I photograph in a fasted state. When there’s nothing digesting in your gut, there’s a clarity that follows. There’s a direct connection through the nervous system that allows you to perceive deeply. When the body is aligned, thought falls away. And when thought falls away, intuition takes over.
I’m not interested in overthinking scenes. I’m not interested in photographing from the rational mind. Of course, understanding composition matters. But at the end of the day, photography is a physical act. It requires vitality first.
The more you walk, the more you see. The more you see, the more you photograph. The more you photograph, the more curious you become.
If you lack vitality, you won’t cultivate curiosity. If you wake up sluggish and tired, how are you going to pick up the camera and walk?
Photography is a bodily experience. It’s presence. It’s the sun on your skin. It’s the sensation of clicking the shutter. It’s responding instead of thinking. When my gut says shoot, I obey it.
Don’t think. Just shoot.
Eliminate the noise. Gear debates. Outcomes. Good photos versus bad photos. When you engage your senses—seeing, feeling, smelling—everything aligns. Bliss and freedom are found when decisions are eliminated.
The biggest issue I see is decision fatigue. Left or right. This scene or that scene. This camera or that lens. It clouds the mind. It drains the body.
Cultivate a strong body and a strong spine. A strong soul will follow. Strength creates clarity.
I treat photography like weight training. You make small efforts every day. You break things down. You recover. You come back stronger. Each day I photograph, my curiosity increases just a little bit. Over time, the practice compounds.
A vital photographer makes stronger photographs. Energy overflows into the work.
Photography and composition are physical. Where you stand matters. How you move matters. When you click the shutter matters. The body knows where to stand.
Beauty feeds the soul. I walk in nature. I listen to birds. I visit libraries. I look at architecture. I curate what I feed my body and my senses. That cultivation influences how I see.
I focus only on what I can control: walking, moving, being present. I detach from outcomes. I detach from whether I’ll make a good photograph or not. That detachment frees the inner child.
Photography isn’t a mindset. It’s a bodily experience.
Photography puts me in the now. The past and future aren’t in my control. Presence is. When you ground yourself in the moment and respond intuitively, authentic expression follows.
I’m not thinking. I’m responding.
Photography, for me, is a way of being. I move through the world as an empty vessel and allow life to come to me. I don’t take it too seriously. I engage with life physically.
Remove thought. Engage the body.
Walking feels good. Shooting feels good. Vitality creates joy. Joy fuels curiosity. That’s the loop.
Those are my thoughts on the somatic experience of photography.
Thank you for watching. I’ll see you in the next one. Peace.
People who hate people whom they never met in real life are suckers.
For instance- when you hear somebody who passionately hates Trump, Elon, Bezos, Zuckerberg, etc. but they literally have never heard them speak in real life or have been in the same room as them in the physical flesh…..
Why?
Media, movies, TV, news, videos, podcasts… people are mostly sucked into a cyberspace world and spend 90% of their day indoors on computers. Can you really blame the prisoners for being chained to the wall though? They have the key, but they choose not to use it
Also complaining about the government is pointless because you still are waking up every morning commuting to work and passing by a McDonald’s on the freeway everyday.
Getting my morning started here in the park, thinking today about photography and how I use photography as a way for me to remain grateful for life.
For me, the mornings are my favorite time of the day. Waking up at dawn, eager to catch the sun’s rays, grabbing my camera, and just going. Going with the flow. Making pictures of whatever it is. Forgetting everything I think I know.
I move through the day making pictures in this spirit of play, and that play reminds me that I’m alive. It puts me in this grateful state. Every single morning, I’m grateful for another breath, another day, another opportunity to play.
This is such a powerful way to reframe how we engage with photography. To simply treat it as gratitude. As life affirmation.
This is my approach. My approach to life and photography going forward. I don’t ever want to feel like I’ve seen it all or done it all. I use photography as a way to remain curious about everything.
I treat my everyday life as a photographer as life affirmation. As gratitude for life itself. Through that gratitude, I engage with life with this loving, joyous energy that flows through me. And through that energy, through that feeling, it reflects back in the things that I make.
When I make a photograph from this state, I believe it’s a pure photograph. A pure photograph requires no explanation. It doesn’t need anything “interesting.” It simply provides a sensation.
The photographs I make become pure because I’m not trying to explain some convoluted idea. They derive from my internal state. From how I’m feeling.
Maybe, just maybe, through making pictures throughout my life, that feeling will resonate with someone else. But I’m not thinking about that anymore. I’m not wondering what they mean or what makes them great.
I’m photographing in an autotelic state. I’m photographing in a way that makes me grateful for every single day.
Photography, for me, is life affirmation. It’s gratitude. It’s me saying thank you for this day. With every click of the shutter, I’m reminded that I’m alive, that I’m present, that I’m here.
I treat photography like a lifeline throughout my day. Almost like a superpower. With a camera in hand, no matter what I’m doing or what I see, no matter how mundane things might be, I can always create something.
That’s why I’m so grateful for photography. It allows me to fall in love with life every single day.
