There will be no nostalgia for the material plane, for the simple material acts of life, putting on a pair of shoes, going to bed dead tired, taking a shit, bruising a knee and all the rest, because these were always already lived in the realm of essence and constellated around another centre. The material, the bodily core of living felt like home only because it was the nearest reflection in the conditional reality in which your thought was (re)awakened to itself.