The past year all but put to rest the cliché that the millennial generation will only commit to taking action in the form of 140 characters or less. From Ukraine, to Ferguson, to Hong Kong, we saw examples of people—perhaps too young to see a cut-and-dry distinction between our online and real world selves—taking to the streets, taking back public spaces, demanding accountability from their leaders, and justice for crimes unpunished. I am by no means the first to suggest that social media and other contemporary communications amplified these efforts, but there has been little discussion about the ways that those forms of communication have connected us as global citizens with a shared sense of values.
The idea of the ‘global citizen’ goes back to ancient Greece in the 4th century B.C., when the philosopher Diogenes struck a blow against petty provincialism and small-minded sectarianism by proclaiming, “I am not an Athenian or a Greek, but a citizen of the world.”
As the bloody mess that is human civilization can attest, Diogenes’s saber-rattling declaration about the global nature of his identity hasn’t been easy for human beings to embody. But our increased sense of connectedness is now enabling the global citizen to flourish. There is a growing sense that our individual lives resonate with a global dimension and that our interests extend beyond those of our immediate borders. In this issue, we set out to explore that sense.
We started in Argentina where Kurt Shaw sought to better understand a man who we believe is the pinnacle of global citizenship, Pope Francis (“Walking the Maze”). How are we to reconcile the narrow-minded parochialism of the Catholic Church in recent years with the tolerance, cosmopolitanism, and commitment to justice that has defined Francis’s brief papacy? Shaw walks the streets of Buenos Aires and Córdoba to unlock the mystery behind Pope Francis’s distinct blend of faith.
Next, we head to the Yukon, where Tom Clynes paddles down the Snake River and chronicles a legal victory that brought together stakeholders from diverse coalitions, who came together to protect one of the world’s last great wildernesses (“Champagne in the Peel”). The rich hues of the Canadian landscape seem to capture an unusual feeling for those struggling to protect wild places against relentless development: optimism.
Half a century ago, Timothy Leary described a global perspective that was “turned on and tuned in.” In her exploration of the mindfulness movement, Taffy Brodesser-Akner shows how being “turned on and tuned in” has come to be seen as a symptom of an affliction known as “distraction” (“Turbulent Calm”). Brodesser-Akner asks provocative questions about whether mindfulness projects a solitary ideal that isolates us from others instead of connecting us with them.
Speaking of isolation, in new fiction by Darin Strauss, we head to the Emirates for the story of Chuck, (“Chuck Knows Nothing”) an erstwhile web entrepreneur who somehow manages to have a ton of ideas about connectivity without really having a clue about how to achieve it in his own life. The lessons he learns through his failed relationship with Azeeza point to an important distinction between being a global citizen versus merely well-traveled.
And that raises a big point that I’d like to end with: Though this issue takes you to a crack den in Buenos Aires, through the mouth of the Snake River in the Yukon, and to the sun-drenched streets of Abu Dhabi, we don’t want to leave you with the impression that being a global citizen means jet setting around the world and simply learning about other cultures. On the contrary, what makes this time in human history so sacred is our ability to now be connected to people based on shared values and not on mere geography. Today, creativity gets you much further than a passport ever could.
Parents of young children get more time with them if they work from home.Photo credit: Canva
Juicy subject matter
Giphy from The Blacklist.
We could start a rumor.
Grieving couple comforting each other
This response to someone grieving a friend might be the best internet comment ever
When someone is hit with the sudden loss of a friend or loved one, words rarely feel like enough. Yet, more than a decade ago, a wise Redditor named GSnow shared thoughts so profound they still bring comfort to grieving hearts today.
Originally posted around 2011, the now-famous reply was rediscovered when Upvoted, an official Reddit publication, featured it again to remind everyone of its enduring truth. It began as a simple plea for help: “My friend just died. I don't know what to do.”
What followed was a piece of writing that many consider one of the internet’s best comments of all time. It remains shared across social media, grief forums, and personal messages to this day because its honesty and metaphor speak to the raw reality of loss and the slow, irregular path toward healing.
Below is GSnow’s full reply, unchanged, in all its gentle, wave-crashing beauty:
Why this advice still matters
Mental health professionals and grief counselors often describe bereavement in stages or phases, but GSnow’s “wave theory” gives an image more relatable for many. Rather than a linear process, grief surges and retreats—sometimes triggered by a song, a place, or a simple morning cup of coffee.
In recent years, this metaphor has found renewed relevance. Communities on Reddit, TikTok, and grief support groups frequently reshare it to help explain the unpredictable nature of mourning.
Many readers say this analogy helps them feel less alone, giving them permission to ride each wave of grief rather than fight it.
Finding comfort in shared wisdom
Since this comment first surfaced, countless people have posted their own stories underneath it, thanking GSnow and passing the words to others facing fresh heartbreak. It’s proof that sometimes, the internet can feel like a global support group—strangers linked by shared loss and hope.
For those searching for more support today, organizations like The Dougy Center, GriefShare, and local bereavement groups offer compassionate resources. If you or someone you know is struggling with intense grief, please reach out to mental health professionals who can help navigate these deep waters.
When grief comes crashing like the ocean, remember these words—and hang on. There is life between the waves.
This article originally appeared four years ago.