In the middle of a pedestrian-only shopping street in Athens, a roughly 60 year-old man with scraggly shoulder-length salt and pepper hair sat on a bench along the planter box in the median. He stared into nothing - in a world of his own. At first I took him for high and homeless. On a second glance, I realized probably neither was true – it seemed more likely he was having a moment of some kind.
I was on my way from my hotel to the little restaurant at which I wanted to grab brunch and write. As we run through our days, doing life as we each know it, it's easy to forget the moments when the world stops. The moments when you experience loss or tragedy. The moments suddenly everything comes to a stop and however important what you were doing was just a minute ago, it means nothing now. Sometimes finding your way to a bench in the median of a pedestrian-only street and sitting down next to a planter box is an effort and in and of itself a success.
This week a lot of people have been having those moments. I have friends – family really – who check on their families in Iran and in Israel – hoping to continue getting a response. I text my friend Ziv near Haifa once or twice a day – probably to his annoyance – if for no other reason than to make sure his breath fogs the mirror, so to speak. In reality, he still works, manages to go for a run each day and hangs out in the basement of the local bakery posting photos to show how they keep going despite the circumstances.
I worry for my best friend Mazyar's family in Shiraz who I have never met because his stateside family I know so well have included me as one of theirs for decades. We have celebrated and mourned together. It's not like any of them - stateside or in Iran – support the Iranian regime. In fact, they greivously lost wealth, power and freedom in the revolution. They are people in harm's way.
Sometimes we are all people in harm's way. And indeed today the world sits more nervously wondering who among us may pay what price.
I have long been fascinated by the places that go untouched by history's big events. The places uncolonized, unaware of revolutions, schisms and war. Bali didn't get telephones and electricity until the 1980's. Most of South America sat out World War II. Nepal largely cut itself off from the world from 1846 to 1959.
Thanks to satellites, underseas cables, cell towers, fiber-optics and ever-cheaper equipment, I don't think anyone lives without communication now – although plenty of places still spend large amounts of time without electricity due to insufficient supply. As a result, we live with the strange dissonance that something important is happening – just not where we are. And there's nothing we can do about it. We can know missiles, bombs and drones are creating havoc in Israel, Iran, Ukraine and Russia, but where we are – in Los Angeles, Patmos, Seattle, Paris, Ubud, Zanzibar or Downtown Naypyidaw - life marches on. Only our awareness makes it different. We still have to make dinner, attend a birthday party, do the laundry and make that customer service call that will keep us on hold for 30 minutes.
In a time of crisis, the mundane can feel almost profane (which by some definitions it is).
On Patmos, there seems to be little sense of crisis today. Throughout its history, Patmos has been fairly well insulated against the world. Even during the early days of COVID when no one could arrive or exit the island, many Patmians were able to lean into it. As one woman told me, "We didn't have any COVID until the ferries began running again. The whole story seemed ridiculous to us because we were fine. They should have kept the ferries shut down longer." I suppose so long as boats came with supplies, what did it matter to most people?
Over the course of the 20th Century, Patmos flew Ottoman, Italian, British and Greek flags. My guess is that not a lot changed among those times – except when men went off to war. The flow of capital was long constrained in Greece, which further made it so until the past couple of decades, developing property and new forms of businesses wasn't so easy. Iran, Iraq, Kuwait, Vietnam, Cambodia, Afghanistan, Cold War, Algeria, Falklands, Grenada, Kosovo, Rwanda, Somalia, Belgians in the Congo… life here went on here at its more or less typical pace.
In the age of internet, devices and social media, I think it's very hard to know what's "healthy". I have been accused of reacting too much and not enough to different things. And I have seen friends and family who seem sometimes inordinately absorbed by events beyond their control – who lose their ability to be present in the beautiful lives they have built for themselves. Is it smart or stupid to turn off the screens?
In the middle of the conflagration that became Los Angeles in January, I (and millions of others probably) was grateful for an app called Watch Duty which tracks fires. It allowed me to know what was going on without relying to the television – buffering my kids from scary events. It also quickly got me the information I most needed. Instead of staying glued to the news, waiting for coverage on my area – I could instantly see my area and that of every friend and family member. I also had the odd comfort of knowing the app would buzz and alert me to events rather than my having to seek them – which freed up my time and emotional space. We can't only worry. At the same time, in that situation especially, I couldn't afford to under-worry because evacuation was a real possibility on more than one occasion.
I never know whether social media allows people to explore new worlds they might not otherwise encounter, understand new lines of of thought and engage in important dialog – or if people are going down rabbit holes and thinking about topics and issues that really don't matter at all and being torn away from their lives. Depending on how you react to various posts, social media algorithms might try to turn you into an civil rights activist or maybe a Juggalo. Or both. Or a Nazi or a Communist, or president of your local gardening club. Does social media promote discourse or contagion? Yes.
When I came to Patmos in March of 2022, the Ukraine war was a month old. It had already gone on longer than I had expected. The world was focused on it and the Western countries couldn't do enough to support Ukraine. I felt like I was watching my news feed for the turning point moment that would end the war and cause Putin to back off. It felt intense and important. Russia's aggression was an outrage and Ukraine's stand was an inspiration. Here we are more than three years later and people have mostly lost interest. The interminable conflict is a stain on our world, but not something anyone seems able to resolve. The intensity and inspiration of the early days is gone though nothing fundamental has changed.
Should everyone have cared less then and more now? What's the right amount of care and concern? And more importantly, what's healthy for us as individuals? How do we remain informed, engaged, effective citizens of the world while still being informed, engaged, effective people in our lives and families? I always feel my kids deserve everything. Part of that is my presence and attention. Another important part is my example – which includes how engaged I am with the world and the good I do in it. In order to give them everything, I can't be all about them – and I can't lose myself in outside events such that I can't be present with them at dinner and after school.
When you live on a small island without electricity and farm your own food, finding the balance might not be so difficult. Sure, the housework is probably a bitch. Still, how worked up do you get about events beyond your island, let alone your country? Is that better or worse than how we live?
I suppose all of this is to say, it's hard to know what to do and how to feel in confusing, turbulent times. From a safety standpoint, I realize I may be physically closer to the Israel-US (?)-Iran War than my loved ones at home – but safety-wise, I'm probably much further away. Iran has no beef with Greece and Greece probably doesn't plan to enter the war even though it is friendly with Israel. When I finish writing this, I'm going to Petra Beach to spend my Sunday afternoon reading and swimming – trying not to think about how my friend Ziv and his family hang out too much in their Safe Room, that Makhameh checks in regularly on her family in Tehran who are in more danger than Mazyar's family in Shiraz, that one of our temple members and a friend is a Captain in the US Navy and his life may just have changed dramatically, and that every American will need to be more vigilant in public places, airports and online.
Thanks to technology, we're now really just two degrees from Kevin Bacon – which might be a little uncomfortable for him.
I hope for everyone that peace and a good resolution comes to everyone in conflict soon. I hope everyone gets to stop worrying about the safety of their friends and family – that we find our way to a new stability. Until then, I hope we can all find the grace to be both here and there – to balance the worry with the necessity and benefit of the present. And to know that no one knows the right balance – we just all keep working on it.
