The world has always been crazy, we just keep forgetting

What history, war, and a 1957 journal taught me about hope

The date: 66 million years ago.

You are: A Tyrannosaurus Rex.

Event: An asteroid 15 kilometers wide slams into present-day Yucatán, unleashing a force of 6 billion Hiroshima bombs.

Aftermath: You explode. Wildfires ravage the planet. 75% of species are wiped out, including all your dinosaur brethren, except for the flying ones.

Imagine CNN covering that.

Last night I was listening to a podcast where someone was once again saying some version of that ol’ line.

You know the line…

Wild times we’re livin’ in.

The world’s gone mad.

Things are especially crazy nowadays.

I’ve said it too. I mean c’mon, look at what we’re dealing with:

• 8 billion big-brained emotionally supercharged primates

• Social media

• Wars

• Nuclear bombs at our disposal

• Genocide

• AI

• Trump + Putin + XI Jinping

• Climate change

• Islands of plastic in our oceans

• Increasing UFO sightings.

Wtf. Seriously, that is a crazy list, and that’s just scratching the surface.

If I spend too long thinking or reading about these things—especially what’s happening in Gaza or with AI—my mind does a tailspin. I’ll have to reground, connect with a friend, remind myself that things in this moment, in this place I’m in, are okay, that I am lucky, I am safe, I am powerless over the future and that something way more intelligent than me has a plan that I can’t possibly comprehend.

But what also helps is thinking about times when the world went full ballistic—moments where I’d give anything to stay right here rather than go back there.

That blast 66 million years ago is one of those things.

The Black Death in the 14th century, which wiped out nearly half of Europe’s population, is another.

Or maybe living in Nishapur—northeastern Iran—in 1221, when the Genghis Khan-led Mongols swept in and killed every citizen—200,000 people—in one go, then piled their skulls into a pyramid outside the city walls.

Yeah, no thanks.

But oftentimes, those hard things aren’t millions or thousands of years away. They’re right behind me.

When I’m really seeking perspective, I’ll often think about my ancestors.

My French great grandfather and four of my great-great uncles fought in World War I. One great-great uncle was killed, the rest miraculously survived. When I read books or hear stories about that war, I can’t help but think of what they saw. On the first day of WWI alone, France lost 27,000 of its men. 27,000 young able-bodied boys, mowed down in one day. By the end of the war nearly 40% of Frenchmen between the ages of 20-24 had been killed.

Had I lived back then, those would have been my friends, my brothers, my bunkmates or maybe even me. Nearly half my generation, erased.

Meanwhile, I’m over here anxious about what I see on my screen.

Yes, it’s normal to worry, and yes the world is messed up, and yes we need to work harder to heal and help each other as a species. But it’s also important to remember what this Earth has been since its inception—a constant mix of change and chaos.

That’s why I love history so much, and why I studied it in university. Not only does history show us that things have always been this way, but it also reminds us of the amount of work past generations have done to help us suffer less.

Our warm showers, our toilets, our healthy bodies that can fight previously incurable diseases, the many peace deals that keep our world relatively intact, the ability to protest, to vote, to challenge authority, to think about what our purpose is…this stuff is all new.

And wow, it’s so easy to take for granted.

Remembering the struggle and sacrifice of those who came before me helps me get out of my self-pity and see that I am part of something bigger. That I am a member of a species that has been through hell and back countless times, and somehow made it through and continuously given a better life to its descendants.

A few months ago I was once again reminded of this when my mom found my great-grandmother’s journal.

Her name was Lily. She lived in a tiny town tucked in the Southern French mountains when the Nazis took over the south in late 1942. She was a part of the underground resistance and she and her family hid a Jewish man and his wife for a year. Here she is with her two sons. My cute lil’ grandpa is on the left.

As I read her diary, I felt a call from the past to keep my chin up, to remember my lineage, to understand how good I have it, to know that I am not alone in my suffering, that I am connected to her, to them, and to their belief in a better day.

And so, I would like to end with her words, dated December 20th, 1957.

For Peace

To you all who with all your heart desire peace, I want to say again: do not despair.

You are surely suffering, some in your skin, some in your heart. We all suffer in our consciences.

We will not give up.

Despair and resignation look too much like cowardice.

There is something to do.

The movement of peace is in the works everywhere in the form of conscious individuals who dare to affirm that the first human duty is respect for life.

In all groups, we are bound to acknowledge it and reject all biases whatever they may be.

For millennia, haven’t these biases been the means of division that have allowed the ambitious and voracious to exploit their neighbors?

It is time to revalue humanity.

Love,

Lily Pascal

(and her great grandson, Matt).

PS - WIN OF THE WEEK

From Ken: Last week I asked my girlfriend Anneleen to marry me in the middle of the jungle in Sri Lanka. The days leading up to the big question were the toughest, but when I got on my knee, I just thought: Love is the answer my friend, and your heart, not your mind knows what it wants... and she said YES! (got the wrong ring size though, but those are things to deal with back home :)).

Huge congrats to these two beautiful lovebirds :)

PPS -

I’m somehow doing the thing I thought was impossible…making a living as a writer. From the bottom of my heart, thank you to each of you for making my dream come true.

If you like what you read here, then you’ll probably like reading my book, Talk To Strangers.

And if you wanna connect with me and other awesome members from this community, then join us at Matt’s Friend Club :)