“Can I call Mommy? I want to tell her I want to stay,” Sennen said at Agriolivadi today.
This is how it starts.
“Right now? Are you sure? I’m never going to tell you that you aren’t welcome here, but it also seems like there are other things you’re looking forward to this summer. Are you sure you would want to give those up?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I want to stay here.”
Ailyn then reminded him of several of their summer plans with Emily.
“I want those things too!”
“That makes sense – we all have the experience of wanting two or even many things at the same time. It’s a normal part of life. Sometimes, we just have to choose. Here’s an idea. Why don’t you just sit with everything, we continue enjoying the beach and when we get home, if you still want to call Mommy – which will be a more reasonable hour anyway – you can?”
Sennen accepted my proposal. When we got home, he didn’t ask to call Emily.
Will this hold? Who knows. But this is Sennen in the final stretch of a Patmos sojourn. Not wanting to leave. Missing friends, wanting things ahead – and not wanting to leave. Moments of clear decision, followed by others gripped with hesitation. From here to the ferry will be an emotional rollercoaster.
“The world is falling apart, it just makes no sense. We like in a crazy, crazy world,” Theologia the owner of Proton Supermarket said to me at random as she rang up my groceries. Theologia was born and mostly raised in Australia before her Patmian family returned meaning making her very easy to converse with. She had just watched the news before returning to work.
“People are creating so much pain for each other. It just makes no sense.”
I had no response other than “We are living in crazy times and it is sad and scary.”
Then I paused and said, “I know Patmos isn’t completely removed from the world or unaffected by it. But that’s one of the things I love about being here – it feels separated. It feels safer. We aren’t in the thick of things here.”
“Yes, we are very lucky to be here. It is better and I thank God for it.”
“I think that’s one of the things I like so much about it,” I continued musing, “With my kids here and me – I feel so much safer.”
She understood exactly what I meant and said she’s glad I feel safe here – and hopes my family and I continue enjoying our time.
Certainly it’s not the only reason Sennen wants to stay – but I think one of the big attractions we all feel to Patmos is the otherworldliness of it. Sometimes when I’m walking through town, it feels almost like a movie set. Only it’s not just the aesthetic – which is amazing enough – but the feeling. On a warm summer day with its long light and people happy and pleasant – Patmos feels like the place to be. When my kids are here, I don’t worry about them.
I often wonder what it must have felt like to be on Patmos at so many junctures in history – because it’s in the cradle of Western Civilization. Whatever big events have happened – people have been here. What did it feel like during the Nazi occupation of Germany? How much did that directly affect little Patmos? The First World War? The Crimean War? The first lunar mission? The Cold War? The 100 Years War? The Napoleonic Wars? The Fall of Rome?
Did these things have dramatic impact? Or did life go on largely per usual? How much does a town around a monastery and fishing village on a 13-square-mile island in the Southeast Aegean change?
How exactly did people here learn about electricity and modern plumbing? And from that point, how long did it take before those things were added – and accepted?
I have to imagine change came to Patmos – sometimes and slowly. There were likely many events that meant a lot to people elsewhere that perhaps didn’t register here in any meaningful way.
To paraphrase what I said to Theologia, Patmos isn’t disconnected from the world, but it has a margin.
Oh what a blessing a margin is.
On a day like today – sleeping late, getting a slow start and then going to placid, lightly breezy Agriolivadi to stare out at the aquamarine water and swim in it as desired – it’s all margin.
Today was the kind of day the kids won’t likely remember in detail. Instead, they’ll remember the feeling – of safety, beauty, friendship, family, love, clear waters, incredible blues, moderate temperatures, breezes – and maybe all the fruit they eat everyday. It’s a lot.
Let them have it every day they can. Let them know the world doesn’t have to feel crazy. It’s not all what we experience when we watch the news, or our rising expenses, or have crazy conversations with people who otherwise seem sane. The problems of the world don’t have to be our problems everywhere, all the time. Sometimes – no matter what else may be happening – there’s a time and place for only what’s truly important to matter, and not the rest.
