As I Turn 37, I am Starting to Accept the Instability that Shrouds the World Today

A few days ago, my neighborhood in Malta was hit by a series of power outages, blanketing the area in darkness just as everyone was about to head to bed. With the late-summer heat still unbearably strong, it was not exactly the easiest night to get through. Waking up in a sweat at 3am, I found myself unable to keep lying on the soaked-through bed in a windless room, so I headed up the balcony, just a catch whatever breeze it could offer. I expected that, devoid of the usual orange-ish streetlights, the top-down view of the streets, lined with stone buildings on both sides, would be ghastly, but far from it.

Instead, the full moon, usually hidden amidst the artificial lights, illuminated the sky so much so that I did not even need my smartphone flashlight to navigate through the scattered rocks on the balcony. Not only were the stone buildings and the distant Mediterranean fully visible, but the stars and passing clouds turned a different, grey hue that I have never recalled seeing. Cliche as it sounds, one really does not notice what one takes for granted until something else that one takes for granted suddenly disappears. As dependent as modern humans are on electricity, nature can still bring appreciation and reflection.

It was certainly a good time for it, as I passed another birthday that I am increasingly hesitant to celebrate. Even with the common refrain of "age is just a number," it is difficult not to feel that the inflection point between "growing up" and "growing old" is solidly behind me. There are still new experiences to be had, not the least staring at a full moon in pitch darkness at 3am, but those are increasingly something that I need to hunt for against the skepticism of others expecting "stability," rather than given with the positive encouragement of "maximizing potential."

But there is another way to look at it. Stability is often an illusion in the best of times. Malta, with its growing population and economy, one of the most developed in the world, can still struggle to maintain an infrastructure that leads to three power cuts in two days. And with the many upheavals this blog has documented, from the 2011 earthquake in Japan to the COVID-19 pandemic, and all the mishaps during job changes, visa applications, and global travels, I should know better than most not to chase that illusion, no matter how real and ideal it seems.

There is nothing to remind us of the ephemeral nature of stability than watching global news. Days ago, Israel decided to bomb Qatar, to assassinate the very Hamas negotiators Israel is supposed to speak to end the war in Gaza. Even for a generally brazen Israeli government, the cynicism of killing off the peace process in such an ostentatious way, on the sovereign territory of one of the most developed and pro-American corners of the Middle East, has crossed a new red line. With condemnation for Israel limited to talks, even economic prosperity is no longer a guarantee for peace and security.

Even outside military conflicts, stability has gone up in smoke. The recent news of hundreds of Korean employees in a Hyundai manufacturing facility being detained, chained, and then deported from the US pours cold water on the notion that business transactions and commercial logic of investment and job creation could be an anchor for stability. Capricious political decisions can now overturn even win-win situations. In such a world, we should not just stop expecting a steady supply of electricity, but also not expect that our very lives can be preserved.

In this remote, sun-soaked corner of the world that is Malta, instability often feels far away until the odd power outage hits. But just like we should cherish the sight of the bright full moon lighting up the sky during the blackout, there is so much beauty we should cherish today, just because all of that is so fleeting. As I add another year to my aging tally, it is another reminder to cherish the fleeting belief of "growing" and "potential." Even if no more is still to be had, at least that ideal can live on in our minds, just like the stability that once disappeared can never come back.

It is not easy not to be cynical in the present world, when self-interest seems to trump predictability, and accountability becomes an empty slogan that no one can or is willing to enforce or punish. As my 38th year on Earth begins, still idyllic in Malta, I feel lost but also grateful. So many live with the same cynicism and the darkness, both physical and metaphorical, but many do not have the mental leeway to view the full moon at 3am. Instability is anxiety-inducing, but ultimately beyond any individual's control. In our acceptance of the darkness, the moon becomes just a bit brighter.