What The Flux

Greece feels remarkably safe. It’s common to see children under 10—often young girls—walking alone after dark, even riding their scooters through quiet streets at 10 p.m. It’s simply understood: Greece is safe. That sense of security seems to be rooted in the culture itself, where family is deeply valued, and community ties are strong. In the nine days we’ve been here, we’ve seen exactly one police car—a fact that feels both surprising and wonderful. One thing I didn’t expect, though, is the near-total absence of yoga. When planning this scouting trip, we focused on the obvious: employment, climate, housing, transportation. I never thought to ask, “Is there yoga?” I assumed, as in the U.S., there would be a studio on every other street corner. Rob made a similar assumption about music—surely there would be recording studios and venues to explore. I also imagined that fine art would be as accessible as it is in the States, with dedicated museums, modern art institutions, and galleries s...

Rob and I often talk about relative wealth. Studies have shown that people tend to feel happiest when they have as much—or more—than those around them. Being at the top end of the economic spectrum in your community tends to feel good. So what does it mean to live in a country where most people hover around the midline? When I began considering a move to Greece, several friends reminded me, “It’s a poor country.” And by certain metrics, that’s true. Greece is still recovering from the economic collapse of 2010. It doesn’t have the glut of goods we’re used to in the U.S. In stores, housewares, electronics, and furniture often feel low-end to an American eye—especially one accustomed to having access to high-quality goods from around the world, delivered quickly and affordably (at least until Trump disrupted that system). It’s hard to grasp just how plush life in the U.S. is until you leave. You can pick up a full set of fine porcelain at a yard sale for five dollars, or find solid wood ...