Acropolis Wisdom
My legs wobbled like I’d just sipped the final drop of an eight-flight whisky tasting. But I was stone-cold sober, dizzy from spinning in circles to take in the panoramic view of the cyan city below. From atop the circular tower, I felt a sense of power — not over anyone or anything, but over myself.
Today, I ascended the ancient Acropolis of Kavala, Greece. This version of the fortress, constructed in the 15th century, emerged from unworked local granite blocks interspersed with fragments of brick and marble. It replaced the Byzantine-era version, which met its end in 1391.
The stronghold stands guard over the Via Egnatia, the very route taken by the Apostle Paul as he traveled from Philippi to Thessalonica to spread Christianity throughout Europe. In Caesar’s civil war, legions thundered along it behind Julius himself. During the Liberators’ civil war, Mark Antony and Octavian relentlessly pursued Cassius and Brutus on the same path.
I gazed down at the scene beneath me.
A symphony of toy-sized Fiats and buzzing mopeds danced through the labyrinth of one-way-sized streets, cars moving in both directions. Drivers leaned on their horns. The blares rose in the air only to be swallowed by the wind. People bustling about their errands appeared from my height like Sim City characters. The murmur of commerce and conversation drifted skyward — blending like the hum of cicadas.
Watching life unfold, it dawned on me that little had fundamentally changed since the earliest settlers claimed the ancient peninsula of Panagia in the 7th century B.C.
The technology changed — it always does.
Some 800,000 years ago, early humans made a discovery that sparked unending progress — the ability to control fire. They harnessed flames; now, we harness silicon chips. In between, we traversed eras marked by stone, bronze, and iron.
I once considered myself a technophile, always eager for the latest gadgets and gizmos. At the top of my Christmas list in 2008 was a Radeon HD 4870 graphics card, state-of-the-art at the time. I believed emerging technologies would solve humanity’s most pressing problems. Indeed, innovation has contributed to our collective well-being, from access to clean water and enhanced mobility to information availability and bolstered productivity.
But the deepest human questions remain internal, centered on purpose and fulfillment. No technology can formulate our reason for being or infuse moments with meaning.
The cutting edge often cuts away at what matters most. Even in modernity, there is value in old, battle-tested wisdom — ordinary people who ages ago walked the cobbled streets of Kavala still have much to teach us.
I envision a weary tobacco farmer trudging home under starry skies devoid of light pollution, instilling in us the importance of appreciating nature’s wonder. A grandmother mending clothes by the flickering glow of an oil lamp, demonstrating resourcefulness and grit during hardship. A stonemason meticulously plying his trade, showing craftsmanship to create works that outlast their artisans.
I see a young wife anxiously scanning the horizon, awaiting her seafaring husband’s return, maintaining faith amid gnawing fear. A trusted merchant who dealt fairly and honestly for decades reminds us that integrity and character never go out of fashion. And a caretaker sitting long vigils comforting the sick, exemplifying compassion and community.
Reporters on the evening news tell us everything is changing and that the world today is unrecognizable from generations past. Take a sip of Ouzo each time you hear “unprecedented” on CNN, and you’ll be tipsy before the first commercial break.
In truth, today’s events have ample precedent. Kavala’s 27-century history is ripe with disaster, defeat, death, devastation, suffering, and, most importantly, resilience. In 1185, the Normans razed Kavala, reducing it to smoke and ash. It was rebuilt from the remnants.
Throughout the 13th century, the city became a pawn on the chessboard of empires. Control swung between Byzantine and Venetian powers in a game of tug-of-war. In 1387, Kavala was devastated once more, this time by the invading Ottomans claiming the strategic port for themselves. Even Mother Nature had her say — waves of disease, including the Plague of Justinian and the Black Death, swept through the city, decimating the population and economy. But Kavala survives.
Each generation sees itself as standing on the precipice of transformation. But the cycles of history reveal periods of turmoil and stability that echo like a rhythm from a Greek toubeleki drum. Empires dominate and crumble, wars ignite and extinguish, the victors become vanquished, ideologies shift, and disasters strike.
Then we die.
Perhaps we label times as “unprecedented” to add drama and importance to our lives. It emphasizes our central place in the story of humanity. We feel that making history equates to making progress. But in reality, we are characters in an ever-unfolding epic.
Like our ancestors who once huddled together around campfires, we, too, yearn for the glow of understanding to pierce the blackness of ignorance, for the radiant heat of compassion to thaw our cold and fearful hearts, and for the secure embrace of togetherness to shield us from loneliness.
It was comforting to think that if those ancient walls could speak, they would recount familiar tales of laughter, heartbreak, birth, and death. I am one of 110 billion humans who have existed on Earth. One day, just as my ancestors are now nameless and faceless to me, I, too, will be forgotten.
In a world that seems to spin too rapidly, this timeless view grounded me in what lasts. Those stones bore witness: civilizations change, but inner truths stand firm. What we seek endures. Who we are remains.
We all play but a fleeting part. We write our lines, play our roles, and exit to applause from ages past.
As I return to the daily unfolding, I heed the call those enduring walls imprinted on me — create fearlessly, love completely, and live virtuously. This is how we meet challenge. This is how we play our part. This is how we make our lives a worthy sequel to the enduring epic.
I descended the time-worn spiral steps with the gift of a bolstered spirit. I walked not just from a vantage point but from an oracle sanctum, steeped in perspectives more lasting than any present unrest. With this understanding, the turmoil of the outer world appears surmountable, and my inner peace remains unwavering.
