In late November 2003, I flew from Taipei to Seattle (via Tokyo), spent two days on the ground and flew back. Two days of travel for two days present. It was my twin cousins Josh and Arielle’s 10th birthday and despite living and working in Hsinchu, Taiwan, I wasn’t going to miss it. I can’t say it was the clearest two days in my memory. I remember going with a bunch of kids to a movie theater. It was cold and damp. There was cake – but I can’t remember if it was real or ice cream.
I was 26 and used to a lot of travel – especially trans-Pacific.
Today, at 48 I completed four, possibly five days of travel depending on how you count it. I arrived on Patmos Sunday morning at 8:30 am, having left Patmos at 1am Wednesday – you decide for yourself.
Everything went very smoothly. I planned it well – sleeping on the ferry from Patmos to Athens, getting two decent nights of sleep in Westlake, napping through most of the flight to Istanbul and sleeping a good 7.5 hours on the ferry in a comfortable cabin after a nice shower. I had options, conveniences and foresight I lacked at 26. Short of lay-flat business/first-class seats, I don’t think anyone could have done it any more comfortably.
Still, I reluctantly have to concede I am not as resilient as I was at 26. Today has been….tired. Not sleepy tired like I could curl up and nod off, but that same hazy tired I remember from the birthday party – the kind that makes it unclear what kind of cake they had and what movie we saw. I’m in a weird state of functioning, but like I’m 70 percent here.
Nonetheless, I was up at 8:30 when much of Patmos is still sleeping and so, I felt like an early-bird and decided to be productive. I did a little housework, grocery shopping, retrieved my international driving permit that I left in Dimitris’ rental car and took it down the road to Stefanos from whom I rent my motor scooter. I’ve even did more treatments to kill off the grass from the former lawn that’s trying to reassert itself around my garden (I’m testing whether vinegar salt and dish soap work outperform boiling water – so far, it seems like the boiling water is winning).
Even though I’ve only been away a few days, the island has changed – more people, more energy. Coming on the Saturday night/Sunday morning ferry is part of it – lots of visitors on that run. Town feels fuller, there are more cars and motorcycles from Athens – often inappropriately sized to the island – and people are hitting the beaches – especially the one in the front of town near where I’m writing. It’s a nice 78 and sunny – an ideal vacation day for visiting throngs.
Only laying on the beach today doesn’t sound like a smart idea for me. Writing near the beach, enjoying Aetherion’s take on a caesar salad and writing felt more like the way to go. I just spent 4.5 weeks on the beach, a boat or swimming pool. I might be okay to stay on land a little more. Maybe.
Another major difference at 48 versus 26 – I was REALLY excited at how clean my house was when I walked in. I’m pretty sure the apartment my friend Jesiah and I shared and cleaned ourselves in Hsinchu was never as clean. My version of cleaning the bathroom was to spray everything with X14, close the bathroom door and leave the apartment for at least an hour while the napalm they labeled bathroom cleaner went to work. Here, while I was away, Emmanoula let herself in and de-thirteen-year-old-ed the house. I left her more money than the usual weekly cleaning – she deserves it.
As much as I would rather be with my kids, I can at least make this time work for me. This house, far more than the one in Westlake in which I spend so much time, feels like my space. It reflects my tastes, it feels right size, the kitchen is well appointed and well – outside is Patmos. Much like my days living in Bali and Thailand, staying inside is hard when the warm, bright world outside feels like it’s calling. That’s one reason I usually work on the porch or at a cafe. I’m going to try to let myself enjoy being home – maybe having a lazy night reading or watching a movie. And I also want to do what I seldom did when the kids were here – walk to the beach after working and look up at the sky and all the stars you can’t see in Westlake. Maybe have a gelato while doing it.
On the walls of the newsroom of The Daily of the University of Washington, there are multitudes of hand-written quotes students have been writing for decades. For a Daily staffer, being quoted on the wall is a privilege and honor – one I was fortunate enough to have an unusual five times. One quote had already been there a long time when I joined The Daily – “First sex is never the best sex, you just don’t realize it at the time.”
With the exception of a one-night-stand, that’s kinda’ true. I realized it actually applies to most things. The first day of a job is never the best day you’ll ever have. Or school. Or just about anything you start. Except in one way. On the first day, everything is in front of you – all the possibility, all the adventure, all the room to create and succeed.
I think that’s exactly where I am. Today, in my around-the-world-in-four-days haze, this won’t be my best day of Patmos 2026. It won’t be my best Sunday here – or anywhere. But it is the day for this half of the summer that I have the most possibility. The canvas is clean, the options are present, the possibilities many. Given work and handling the “stuff” that makes up life isn’t optional, the only way to waste this gift of time is to allow the mundane to fill it.
If I play my cards right, I can do the necessary while also taking advantage of my rare opportunity to breathe and expand. I need to take care of myself including doing things I don’t usually have the space and inspiration to do. I have writing and projects on which to make progress. Equally, I need to put away my screens more and be in the world. Maybe reading, swimming, figuring out how to string lights up around the garden. I’m going to talk to people I don’t always get the time to reach out to and I’m going to listen to them – because the less I get to see them, the more I need to make use of the precious time we have to interact.
So much of life in Westlake feels like things I’m delivering on – places I need to be, things I need to get done to make it all work for the people around me, people I’m responsible to, people I love. These next few weeks, I’m going to leave all my deliverables for work. The rest of life is for living.
Or said Ferris Bueller’s way, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
