Several months ago, by coincidence, I happened to be reading two books at the same time. At home I was reading, “Eat, Pray, Love,” the popular memoir by Elizabeth Gilbert in which she travels to Italy, India and Indonesia as she emotionally heals from a divorce. At work, in my spare moments, I was reading “Nickel and Dimed: on (Not) Getting by in America” in which Barbara Ehrenreich recounts her experiences trying to live on minimum wage in three different American cities. (I felt justified in reading this at work because it gave me some context to understand the challenges faced by clients of the social service agency where I work, and it was recommended by a colleague.)

If I had not simultaneously been reading these two books, it is unlikely that I would have ever seen a connection between them, but since I was, there were some obvious similarities.

Both books are written by women who immersed themselves in experiences that most readers either would not choose voluntarily, or would not have the means to choose. Both traveled alone to three different locations, leaving behind the trappings of their normal lives and careers. Both were profoundly affected by their experiences, and especially by the people they met along the way.

On the surface, that is where the similarities end and the differences begin.

Barbara Ehrenreich worked variously at being a waitress, a housekeeper and a retail store clerk in Key West, Portland, Maine and the Twin Cities. For her one-month stays in each of these locations, she lived in the type of housing that minimum wage workers could reasonably expect to afford, which included cheap motels, trailer parks and budget vacation style rentals. (Longer term rentals usually require security deposits, which are often beyond the means of minimum wage workers, who literally live check to check. Ehrenreich writes of coworkers sharing hotel rooms or living out of cars because that is all they could afford, despite working full-time hours.) Her work was often physically demanding, with exhausting, long hours, and she went “home” to spare living quarters whose comfort, privacy, safety and cleanliness were often questionable.

Elizabeth Gilbert’s epic journey was on an entirely different scale. In Italy, she rented a cozy apartment, from which she could easily walk to the numerous restaurants where she indulged in Italy’s finest wines, pastas, pizzas and other notable dishes (including some that would repel more pedestrian consumers, such as, ewww, lamb intestines). In India, Gilbert secluded herself in an ashram, where she practiced the art of meditation, and experienced spiritual transcendence. In Indonesia, on the island of Bali, she rented a spacious vacation home and developed a network of colorful friends and, eventually, a romance, when she wasn’t studying with the medicine man whom she had come to visit. In short, her year-long journey was saturated with physical, spiritual and emotional pleasures, the likes of which most average Americans can only dream.

And yet, to me, there is a deeper similarity between the two books. Gilbert leaves behind an affluent life in a posh suburb to heal from intense emotional pain, and to develop a deeper, more spiritual appreciation for life itself. Ehrenreich illustrates how work utterly consumes the lives of low wage workers, offering them no relief, no breaks or benefits, and no promise of upward mobility. The American dream, of working hard and pulling oneself up by one’s boot straps, is just not accessible to the lowest rung of society, most of whom live in poverty for generation after generation. The parallel illusion, that the wealthy have it all, is also challenged by Gilbert’s deep unhappiness at the start of her journey, though certainly her healing was enabled by her affluence, and this is a point she openly acknowledges.

To me, both of these books illustrate the human necessity of having emotional space, and respite from the daily rush, to enjoy life, savor fine flavors, focus on our connections to the Divine, and build relationships. These experiences should not merely be the province of the rich, as most of us can find pleasure in less exotic flavors and experiences than those experienced by Gilbert. But those who labor at full-time jobs should be able to live a life that is not just a constant survival game, and sadly, that is an elusive dream for a significant segment of society.