Yesterday was the last warm sunny and stunningly beautiful day on Tinos for awhile, the weather forecast told us that it will be clouds and rain from here on out. Fall came more quickly this year than years past, we were already feeling the coolness creep in by September.
I spent yesterday swimming in a calm Aegean sea in a place where I rarely get to swim due to the wind and the waves. Yesterday felt as if I was suspended in the ether of the heavens— ether is the fifth element in ancient Greek philosophy, a pure divine substance that fills the space above the earthly plane.
There are the four earthly elements: earth, air, water, and fire. Then Aristotle added ether as a fifth element— unlike the four earthly elements—which change, move, decay, and transform— ether was considered eternal — the element of potential. It moves in natural circular motions in the air and above us in the celestial spheres. The ancient Greeks knew ether to be a god-like substance that allowed humans to connect to their intuition and the spiritual realm.
As I was sitting there, this very long floating string that looked like a web from a spider floated by and caught my attention, it was silky and thin, and I thought I was imagining something, as it floated by so softly in the air. I wondered if it was a fisherman’s line because it was so long and also nearly clear, but the way it moved didn’t make any sense. Then the tail of the almost twenty meter string caught on a rock nearby and I was able to approach it and feel the substance of it. It was sticky and fibrous, it felt organic, and yet, not like any substance I have seen the likes of before.
I was caught up in the amazement and wonderment of witnessing something for the first time… then at dinner I watched schools of fish crest through the surface of a liquid smooth sea. I felt like a child, experiencing the world in joy.
Moments like this these days— feeling so light and so present— are rare and spontaneous.
If you're like me, you have probably wondered what it will take for humanity to wake up to the vast and beautiful miracle that is life on this earth. It has been a while since I have been able to hold this kind of dream for the future as potential reality—but today I am restored with hope.
As I write this, my home is surrounded by a thick and wet soupy mist, that cloaks and veils the mountain Xomborgou behind the house, and makes the valley below disappear.
I am enveloped in the ether.
