Kalimera
This morning I was sitting again in our small café on the Platia.
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The sun had just risen over the hills, and the first coffees were already on the tables.
Someone had turned on the radio. News was coming from the small speaker.
Middle East. Tensions. Military movements.
Rising energy prices.
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The world sounds loud at the moment.
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I sat there for a while and listened. And while the radio was talking about conflicts and uncertainty, something completely different was happening around me.
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At the table next to me, two elderly women were laughing about something.
The owner brought freshly baked bread out from the kitchen.
Outside, the first bees were humming among the wild herbs that begin to grow everywhere here in spring.
No one seemed worried.
No one was nervously discussing politics.
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The people here on Ikaria remain surprisingly calm.
As I drank my coffee, I found myself wondering why that is.
Perhaps it has something to do with the history of this island.
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Ikaria has never been an easy place to live. For many generations, the people here had to cope with pirate raids, occupations, poverty, and long periods of isolation. There were times when entire villages hid in the mountains in order to survive.
Life here was never something that could be taken for granted.
Perhaps this is exactly where this special sense of calm comes from.
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Many people here do not possess much in a material sense.
A house.
A small garden.
A few olive trees.
And above all: friends, family, and a community that holds together.
Perhaps that is the small secret.
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When you own little, you also have less to fear losing.
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Security does not come from possessions.
It comes from being together.
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While I was sitting there, another thought crossed my mind.
One hundred years ago, people here probably would not even have known what was happening somewhere else in the world. News traveled slowly to the island. Sometimes it took weeks or even months.
And yet people lived.
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They worked.
They laughed.
They celebrated.
Life happened here — not in the news.
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Perhaps this is one of the quiet inspirations of this island.
That we cannot control everything that happens somewhere in the world.
But we can pay attention to what happens right around us.
A table with friends.
A roof over our heads.
Enough to eat.
And perhaps, from time to time, a morning coffee on a small Platia somewhere in the Aegean.
Warm greetings from the island,
Anna