Human beings are designed to be resilient. Research has shown that a trauma or major life changing event shocks our brain into something of a "reset" that lasts six months to a year. This is the window for making big, dramatic change – reevaluating your life's path, reexamining your values, moving, reconciling relationships, taking a big step forward or a giant step back. We see this with widows and widowers who sometimes take unexpected, dramatic turns in life or someone who loses a leg and becomes a Paralympic athlete. These are some of life's big moments.
After the six-month to one-year window, our brains generally adapt to considering whatever our new status to be "the new normal". What may have once felt unimaginable, overwhelming, even made us suicidal can not only be tolerated, but generally embraced. Parapalegics find joy in life again as they adapt to a new way to live. Loss, divorce, even a protracted battle with cancer – people can reconcile and begin to embrace their new path.
As Cheryl Crow put it, "It's not getting what you want, it's wanting what you got…."
This powerful adaptive mechanism is obviously a key to survival and at some point in everyone's life, it's a saving grace. Like so many things, it's also a double-edged sword. There's a fine line between acceptance and complacency. A former colleague and friend was in a horrific car accident and sustained injuries the doctors told him were more severe than Christopher Reeves'. Whether by sheer luck, advancements in medicine, incredibly persistent hard work, or a combination of these – my friend not only came out better that Superman, but eventually regained the full use of his body. Today he's more like the Million Dollar Man whose skeleton is largely artificial, but if you met him, you would never even guess what he's been through. His incredible physique belies his need to maintain his strength to optimize his quality of life in his reconstructed body.
Had my friend fully accepted what he was first told – that he was paraplegic and he needed to learn to adapt – would he be walking around today having the life he does?
Some of the people we admire most are those who rail against accepting the "new normal". Winston Churchill experienced numerous stumbles in his political career and after Gallipoli, it was far from certain he would ever see the political light of day again. Obviously he did, or we might not be living in a free world. More amazingly, the first election after the war, Churchill lost to Clement Attlee (a name you may not even remember). At that point, it would have made sense for Churchill to go home and retire – having won an impossible war and as a hero to billions. Churchill had already proved his brain could defy accepting any normal he didn't believe in – and he came back six years later for a second run as Prime Minister. Churchill decided his story didn't end with a defeat to Attlee – and while Churchill 2.0 was generally not regarded as highly as Churchill Classic, he was a young Queen Elizabeth II's first Prime Minister who she always valued for ushering her into her role.
What would have happened if people like Charles DeGaulle, Nelson Mandela or Abraham Lincoln had accepted "the new normal"? Some bad things, that's what.
The other side of the coin is equally true. Railing against what you can't accept can lead you to bad places, sometimes quite quickly. the Serenity Prayer used by Alcoholics Anonymous rings so true because it's a conundrum we all face – and that when we get stuck, can lead us into mental illness and addiction:
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference
So beautifully written, so hard to live-out.
One thing we can change is our perception. I've noticed Patmos is a place of many perceptions and approaches to life. People are here for the holiness up the hill and for drinks half-naked on the beach. Cruise-ship passengers may spend a total of four-hours of their lives here while other "visitors" have summer homes that pass between generations. Some people stand against restrictive helmet laws and others are coming from Athens with the EV's – and installing chargers in their homes.
Non-Patmians who make Patmos a regular part of their lives, have to change their perception of distance.
"I look at the long ferry-ride from Athens to Patmos as a beautiful transition," an artist named Christina who has a house on the island told me. "It helps me let go of one life and come into the other".
She's from Athens. For others – like me – there are flights involved. Maybe one, maybe two. Maybe more? There's no quick way to Patmos unless you live on Kos or Lipsi.
I've noticed that like distance and the burden of travel is indeed a matter of perception. Growing up, I had a friend whose father worked in New York during the week and who came home every weekend. That became his "new normal". I knew people in Taiwan with dual citizenship who went back-and-forth between Taipei and Washington DC like an Angeleno goes to Vegas for the weekend. Who doesn't know people who take on two-hour commutes to get a house they can afford in an area they want for their children?
Our willingness to adapt can open up the world for us.
I've started playing around with perceptions on how I want to see my house here. Is it something very far away – or something I can get to if I really want? How big a deal is getting to Patmos? What if this Fall or next Spring, it would be good for me to show up to handle something related to the bathroom renovation or preparing before the first Airbnb guest? Could I pull it off? How bad is the travel, really? Especially for a guy who lived in Bali and Singapore….
Because of the ferry, Patmos is about the same travel time from Los Angeles as Singapore. Depending on how much time on the ground between landing and ferry, it might be a little more. Of course, that ferry ride is a lot more comfortable than the same amount of time on a plane….
I'm always amazed by my kids' resilience on flights and major international travel. Ailyn complained more on the way to New York than she did to Patmos. We were on a 757-200 from Los Angeles to Newark for her first domestic flight ever – and let's just say unibody planes do NOT impress Ailyn. Luckily we had a 787-900 Dreamliner with international configuration on the way home, which suited her much better. But flying to Athens – other than a little motion sickness, she was great.
With the right attitude, can Patmos be "right around the corner" the way they seem to view Thailand and Singapore?
Something feels sad about saying "see you next year" to my house. After all, this is the house I own – and want to be in. It's just not the house than can be home year-round at this time. Between the bed and the sofa that's coming – and the island it's on – I wish it was….
I'm looking for how to make it so the Patmos house – and life – aren't just once-a-year joys.
That taps into one of my perceptional weaknesses. I tend to evaluate things as if they'll never be different from the way they are now, and if they are, that it will be worse. It's a funny distortion because if I look at the arc of my adult life, things have gone in positive ways I never would have imagined. I mean, sure, the divorce isn't among them – at least not at current evaluation – but when I met Emily I was making a lot less money than now and she was making a fraction of what she currently makes. We believed that as an adjunct sociology professor at Cal State LA and Northridge, her income potential was very limited and our financial success would be all on me.
Amazingly, Emily embraced online teaching, took on a lot of colleges and made a lot more money. My income also increased substantially over time – and we found ourselves doing just fine, giving our kids and ourselves everything we wanted. And look at our kids! I never would have imagined either of them – and I really like the people they are.
Before the divorce, if you asked me, I would have told you I had everything I wanted. There's always something else that could be nice – but I wasn't left craving anything. There was no one's life I looked around at and wished I had. As far as I was concerned, we had made it. That's a really great thing.
It's been almost a year since Emily and I separated. That's the spark moment to redefining life – the mental "reset" in which a person's brain is open to real change. At one point, I had imagined bigger change than I've settled on and for reasons I'm not reconciled with, that's not how it's going to go. But there can't be no more change than a new address down the street. This house on Patmos serves in part as an anchor to keep my foot in another version of life – part of something that I think suits me better. A future I intend to have and maybe an inspiration for other ideas and changes.
How do I keep it as close as possible to me – and me as close as possible to it? How do I keep the "new normal" from completely solidifying into something rock solid? Like Rappelling, the Patmos house is a way to give my Westlake self a rope to tie around my wait so I'm still linked to another life – another possibility. Not one that's a fantasy or an idea – but a real one I have already created that is mine anytime I want it.
There's a family who comes to Patmos every year from Chicago – we met then in 2019 and they were here this summer too. The husband's family is from Patmos. He inherited two houses including his mother's – which they'll Airbnb when not around. Their now teen daughters have come here every summer their entire lives and feel completely at home. Patmos is "right around the corner" for them. For now, that's what I want for me and the kids. Maybe over time, we spend only part of our summer here and explore some other parts of Europe for a couple of weeks? Maybe because Patmos is a constant in our lives, we make Winter a time for more new travel instead of old, tried and true locations? I haven't figured it all out yet. I just know that for now, Patmos is what keeps Westlake from being the center of the universe and I need that rope tight around my waste.
