Theologia, likely in her early 70’s, once told me how for years, she has coped with life’s stresses by taking time each day to sit by the water for about an hour. Sometimes she might swim, but mostly not. The water calms her, gives her perspective – brings down the stress. “Patmos is a very special place, it is very spiritual,” she said. Combining her faith, the energy of the island and living somewhere surrounded by sapphire water to navigate life’s challenges makes good sense.
Only now she’s struggling to get her time by the water. Apparently her favorite spots are not in town – she prefers somewhere quieter. She didn’t specify the exact cause, but she’s no longer able to safely ride a motor scooter as she once did and has never driven a car. Instead, Theologia finds herself reliant on family to give her a ride.
On an island where few things are more than a ten-minute drive, one would assume this wouldn’t be a big deal. Theologia has multiple children and grandchildren of driving age. Only they have their lives and waiting for them for 30 minutes here and another 30 to come pick her up – it ends up too time consuming and inconvenient. Or at least that’s her perspective and situation at the moment.
Aging is not for the faint of heart.
Because of my age, I know a lot of people raising kids. And seeing their parents age – often struggling as they do. Thanks to being involved in temple leadership, I also know a lot of people who are aging. I don’t know many people who are happy with how it’s going.
Despite this process and dynamic existing from time immemorial, it seems like everyone – including myself is constantly inventing the wheel. Perhaps, in a sense, it’s because we are. We have been living in nuclear families for only a few generations now – a blip in human history. We are encouraged from a young age to grow into independent adults who will in turn raise their own independent adults. And because we’re all these independent adults, we hang onto our independence fiercely as we get older because the options are anywhere between unappealing to unthinkable for most: either moving in with adult children, or into some kind of facility. Certainly, there are some very nice independent and assisted living facilities. However, not only do you have to be ready to forgo some independence, and accept your age for all it entails, but you also have to be able to afford it. Not everyone is so lucky.
The other, expensive, but often more palatable option is to pay for enough help to remain in your home. Again, not within most people’s means.
In short, there aren’t a lot of options people are truly happy with. Theologia is far from alone in her struggle.
Last night I was thinking about why I’m so much less stressed on Patmos. I’m always looking for some nugget I can take back to Westlake – a way to make the rest of the year better. How much of Patmos is transferrable?
I realized at home how often when I see a text, email or incoming call I think “Oh, God, what now?!” or “What does this person want from me now?!” Not a fantastic perspective, I know.
Here, I often enjoy when someone texts or reaches out. That of course speaks to my general stress level and emotional state – I have more bandwidth here, which makes giving people my attention easier, if not enjoyable. The first half of this year had me managing a lot, so I desperately needed to streamline. I just didn’t have the bandwidth to be so fun and accommodating. That’s no one’s fault and I hope I didn’t make anyone feel minimized or undervalued along the way.
Still, the thing I find nearly absent here on Patmos that the fuller my plate got in Westlake became glaringly problematic are monologues. I have people who I know when they answer the phone will begin a monopolistic monologue. I feel immediately trapped and overwhelmed. In fact, I’ve been struck by how many people I know seems to answer questions with a stream-of-consciousness approach – unloading the contents of their mind as if that’s an answer. More frequently, I encounter people who don’t give a succinct summary, but need to walk through the chronology of everything that led them to the answer. For example, “Did the doctor call back? What did she say?” is met with “I was in middle of writing an email – because my boss is out and I’ve been covering and this colleague of mine seems lost without my boss, so I’m now basically handholding her and I was dealing with this woman’s totally incompetent question when the phone rang….”
By the time I find out the the test came back negative or there’s a follow-up appointment next Tuesday – or whatever it is – I’m exhausted and on the road to mildly resentful.
While this is not exclusively a female phenomenon, I have noticed more women than men have this approach to communication. To me, it feels at best inconsiderate and at worst narcissistic. Unless the conversation is established as an emotional support conversation, why would anyone assume they’re the star of the show?
In fact, I heard Sennen, Ailyn and Ethan use the phrase, “You’re not the main character here…” with each other this summer. I thought that sums it up perfectly. We may be our own protagonist, but we can’t assume the role in every situation.
What is it about American life that leads to uncontrolled monologues and monopolization of people’s attention? How has it become a situation where aging is a crisis with an industry around it? I know so many cases where because of the way parents, grandparents or both go about their lives – grandchildren don’t necessarily grow up around grandparents. Has our society become so individualistic we’ve become ill? Given I gravitate to countries with higher collectivist impulses, it could just be me… or are we losing our macro connections to one another?
When I’ve brought up my overwhelm from monologues and other invasive-feeling behaviors from people around me to therapists, friends and family, the word “boundaries” rightfully comes up quickly. I’m happy to admit I struggle with establishing boundaries and so sometimes when I do, it comes off abrupt or harsh. I’m still learning to upshift smoothly. At the same time, why are we all busy putting up boundaries? Why are there so many people bursting into our personal space? Or is it the way we define personal space and resources that are off-base? Sometimes I can’t tell.
At a glance, it appears to me people on Patmos are less likely to overshare sensitive and personal details, but more likely to get to issue advice or get involved in each other’s business. For example, a grandmother might speak up more about she thinks her daughter should handle her grandkids or marriage. But that daughter is far less likely to talk to her friends about her sex-life or medical issues. There’s an inner-restraint with TMI and more of an assumption that family is family – you’re all raising the child, not respecting your daughter’s parenting style as she undergoes her journey creating her own nuclear family.
Neither are the main character.
In fairness, I have no idea if that average Greek or Patmian woman really wants her mother to shut up and is reading books, blogs or watching influencers explain how to establish boundaries with your overbearing Greek mom.
Still, my overall sense is Greeks on average see themselves as less of the main character and more part of a larger social structure. As with small towns and urban environments in America – I guess this is more so on Patmos than in Athens.
One massive advantage of a homogeneous society are more shared norms and values. It’s easier to be on the same page when there’s only one page to be on. Greeks have a constitutionally “prevailing religion” – meaning the Greek Orthodox Church has certain rights and recognition others don’t, even though there is freedom of worship. Almost 90 percent of the population identifies as being Greek Orthodox – meaning among other things, when it comes to the question of “What do we owe one another?” There’s a clear and common answer. People default to the principles of Greek Orthodoxy in how they treat each other – including and especially how familial relationships work.
The United States benefits in many ways from being a heterogenous society, but it means a lot of dissonance on “What do we owe one another” – with a not terribly uncommon answer being “nothing.” Clearly, the collectivist impulses of the “Greatest Generation” have eroded steadily since mid-century. We don’t all agree on what to do for elderly parents, giving advice to adult children, the definition of TMI or what constitutes invading someone’s personal space.
Maybe I’m more easily thrown-off because Judaism is so focused on how we treat each other. In fact, if I were to give a one-line description of Judaism, it’s a religion about how to lead a good life – here and now. Judaism is not transcendental – we don’t do good things now with promises of good things to come if we do. We are supposed to lead a good life because that’s what God wants from us. And if God wasn’t clear enough about what it means to lead a good life in the Torah, the rabbis of the Talmud were eager to assist. Judaism spares no words on how to be a good person – with extra-special interest in answering “What do we owe each other?” The Talmud has an entire segment of rules – mitzvot bein adam l’chavero (commandments between a person and their fellow).
Naturally, having it all written out doesn’t necessarily make it easy to live. Like all principles, convictions and beliefs, they are North Stars in tumultuous times. The rabbis of the Talmud lived in an agrarian society with nomadic/hunter-gatherer society neighbors still around. They wrote many timeless things expressing universal truths. They also hadn’t imagined many of the things diaspora Jews living as a very tiny minority in a multicultural, heterogenous post-industrial society faces. Or a post-industrial Israeli society either, for that matter. We are all left to apply their best lessons to a world in which no one moved to another city for their career, divorce was exceedingly rare, lifesaving and prolonging treatments were available and insurance companies could decide whether or not to pay for them. They certainly hadn’t contemplated the effects of social media and devices – though they were resolute that publicly shaming another is one of the worst sins.
Clearly, Americans are not all on the same page. It’s a hard thing to create common ground, let alone consensus in heterogenous society on a good day. This is not a good day. At the same time, when it comes to figuring out what people owe one another – what our common bonds should be – the winds aren’t in our favor. The Hofestede Scale of Cultural Dimensions has an Individualism vs Collectivism axis – 100 being a nation of Libertarians and 0 being The Borg. America scores 91 – the most individualistic society on Earth with a strong focus on self-reliance and immediate family. Greece scores 35 – well into the highly collectivist range with a strong emphasis on extended family and close-knit social groups. Amazingly – Japan scores 46, less collectivist than Greece. And Guatemala is the most collectivist on Earth, in case you were wondering. Latin America runs very collectivist.
Thus, it makes sense Greeks are less likely to think they’re the main character and dive into monologues and more inclined to all have a voice on how to raise a child – they’re all doing it.
Which brings me to one of my favorite things I see around Skala – grandpas with babies in strollers. I cannot tell you how often I see grandfathers helping with little kids while the parents work. Not only do they seem to enjoy it, but older Greek men swoon for babies just as much as older Greek women. Hopefully, one day those kids will give their Pappoo’s (grandfathers) and Yaya’s (grandmothers) a ride to the beach anytime they ask – because they deserve it.
