A Final Farewell:
At the age of 67, Metropolitan Damaskinos, former bishop of Kydonia and Apokoronas, passed away after suffering a stroke while hospitalized.
What Did It Mean to Be “Olbios” in Ancient Greece?
Today, we often define happiness as the personal satisfaction that comes from achieving our desires. But in Ancient Greece, true happiness—olbiotita—was not something you could claim while alive. One could only be called “olbios” (blessed, truly happy) after death, and only if their life had come full circle in harmony and virtue. Neither heroic deeds, nor glory, nor wealth alone were enough. The concept of “olbiotita” finds its roots in a legendary dialogue between the Athenian lawgiver Solon and the mighty King Croesus—and resurfaces in the underworld, when Odysseus meets the soul of Achilles and hears his haunting lament…
Scene One: Solon Visits the Wealth of Croesus
From Herodotus’ “Histories” (1.26.1 – 1.33.1)
At 35, Croesus succeeded his father Alyattes as King of Lydia. He waged war on the Ephesians first, and then conquered the Ionian and Aeolian cities one by one. His dominion stretched across regions like Cilicia, Phrygia, and Caria. Yet he held back from attacking the Greek mainland, fearing strong resistance.
His capital, Sardis, overflowed with riches. Famous thinkers from across Greece came to witness his splendor firsthand. One of them was Solon, who had just completed his legislative reforms in Athens and set off to explore the world, eventually arriving in Lydia.
Croesus welcomed him into the royal palace. On the third or fourth day, attendants guided Solon through the grand halls, showing him the treasures of the realm in hopes of impressing him.
An Unknown Athenian: Happier Than Croesus?
Once Solon had seen everything, Croesus posed the question he had been waiting to ask:
“Stranger, we’ve heard of your wisdom and travels. Tell me—have you ever met anyone more truly happy (olbiotatos) than I?”
Croesus fully expected to be named the happiest man alive.
But Solon replied, without a hint of flattery:
“King, the happiest man I know is Tellus the Athenian.”
Stunned, Croesus pressed him: “What made Tellus the happiest?”
Solon explained:
“Tellus lived a good life. He raised noble children and saw grandchildren from all of them, all alive and well. His end was glorious: in a battle between the Athenians and their neighbors at Eleusis, he charged the enemy, drove them back, and died a hero. The Athenians honored him with a public funeral and great respect.”
Second Place? Two Humble Farmers from Argos
Annoyed but undeterred, Croesus asked:
“Then who is next happiest?”
Solon answered:
“Cleobis and Biton.”
These two brothers, from a well-regarded family in Argos, were strong, virtuous, and had won athletic honors. Their story was legendary:
During a festival in honor of Hera, their mother needed to be taken by chariot to the temple, but the oxen were late. So Cleobis and Biton yoked themselves to the cart and pulled it—over 8 kilometers—to the temple.
The feat was witnessed by many. The Argive people praised the young men, and the women praised their mother for raising such sons. Overwhelmed with pride, she stood before Hera’s statue and prayed that her sons receive the greatest blessing possible.
That night, after feasting and sacrificing, the brothers lay down to sleep inside the temple. They never woke up. The gods had granted them a peaceful, eternal rest. In their honor, the people of Argos dedicated statues of them at Delphi.
Life’s Luck and the Unpredictability of Fate
Now Croesus was furious.
“So, stranger, you consider my happiness so trivial that I don’t even rank after common folk?”
Solon responded calmly:
“Croesus, I know well that the gods are envious and often overturn fortune. In a long life, a person will see much they wish they hadn’t and endure much suffering. Over seventy years, a man experiences over 26,000 days—each one different from the last. No one can be called truly happy until their life ends well.”
“You are wealthy, yes. You rule over many. But I cannot judge your happiness until I see how your life ends. There are wealthy men who are miserable and modest men who are truly blessed. Happiness lies not just in abundance but in good fortune—and most importantly, in a good death.”
“Many have tasted happiness briefly, only to be cast down. So judge nothing before the end.”
Croesus dismissed Solon, convinced the old man didn’t understand greatness.
“Solon! Solon! Solon!”
But misfortune soon befell Croesus. His beloved son Atys died in a hunting accident. Later, Croesus was defeated by Cyrus of Persia and taken captive. Stripped of his power, tied atop a pyre, Croesus finally grasped Solon’s wisdom.
As the flames neared, he cried out three times: “Solon! Solon! Solon!”
Cyrus, curious, asked him who this “Solon” was. When Croesus shared the tale, Cyrus saw the truth in it—and in a moment of wisdom, ordered Croesus to be spared.
A Complete Life vs. the Worship of the Now
Today, Herodotus’ story is often seen as a parable about the fleeting nature of wealth and power. But it’s more than that.
Solon introduces the idea that happiness lies in a complete, honorable life, not momentary prosperity. He champions a worldview rooted in purpose, legacy, and the natural arc of life—whereas Croesus represents a more superficial, short-sighted ideal of happiness, rooted in material gain and present status.
When Achilles Broke Down in the Underworld…
Herodotus dismissed material wealth. But centuries earlier, Homer had already challenged the idea that heroism alone could lead to true happiness.
In the Odyssey, when Odysseus descends to the underworld seeking the prophet Tiresias, he encounters the soul of Achilles. He greets him with reverence, praising his life and eternal glory.
But Achilles, far from pleased, responds with despair:
“Don’t try to comfort me about death, Odysseus.
I’d rather be a poor farmhand, living in the sunlight,
than king of all the lifeless dead.”
These words shake the very foundations of Homeric heroism. Achilles, the ultimate warrior, admits that no glory can compensate for the warmth and promise of life. His soul mourns a destiny unfulfilled—not in fame, but in happiness. His life ended with a poisoned arrow to his heel, not in the blaze of glory he might have hoped for. He missed the chance to complete his life's arc, and with it, the path to true olbiotita.
In Conclusion
Ancient Greek wisdom offers a profound insight: true happiness cannot be measured by power, possessions, or even acclaim. It must be seen through the lens of a full, balanced life—lived with meaning and concluded with dignity.
To be olbios is to be blessed not just in moments, but in the entirety of one's story.
