There wasn’t a major thunderstorm or news of a car crash, but last night there was an electrical outage in our entire neighborhood. In an instant, the fan stopped humming, the air conditioning wasn’t blowing its air, and there wasn’t sounds of falling ice in the refrigerator. It was amazing how quiet the house became without its usual suspects stirring up some noise.
As I walked in the dark, I fumbled for the flashlight in the drawer. Once I found it, we headed outside to the patio. It was a clear night, with an almost full moon which offered temporary light outside. We saw people outside, mulling around, their identity unknown with just a silhouette.
My gaze turned to the sky, taking refuge under the stars. I struggle to live in the moment, but with no electricity, I embraced this forced silence. Everything was still, as my mind turned to my thoughts. I wasn’t plugged into anything. The television was off, the wifi disabled, and the lights gone. I couldn’t busy myself with chores in the house or create activities for myself. Instead, I sat with my husband, observing stars, trying to explain the different constellations to my four year old.
It was nice, this temporary reprieve from constant motion. And for the first hour, I appreciated it. But then I started feeling a little irritated. It was a hot night, the temperature about 98 degrees, the air in the desert, dry and unrelenting. As hour 2 approached without electricity, bedtime approached, but I couldn’t sleep. I need air circulating to sleep, so as I lay in my bed, my mind started churning again. I thought about the food spoiling, the fact that my whole schedule the next day would be off because I couldn’t get to sleep, and my irritation that the flashlight was starting to become a permanent companion.
As hour three approached, my mind shifted again, thinking about people who live without electricity everyday. I was astounded to learn that 1.6 billion people, a quarter of humanity, live without electricity. That number is so large, so vast, I can’t even quantify it. It made me sad, thinking about this. I felt guilty about my earlier irritation, knowing that my life in the dark, was only temporary. The lights would come on eventually. And they did.
Four hours later, the fan hummed again, the air condition revved up its organs, and there was light everywhere. The house filled again with its ordinary chatter. I felt the cool breeze of the fan on my face and the gust of air blowing from the vent above me. I settled under the covers again, thinking about the various shifts in my mind’s thoughts: welcoming quiet, irritated by inconvenience, guilt about my irritation, and relief of things moving back to normalcy.
There were lessons in embracing the darkness, but I realized because of my conflicting emotions, I have so much to learn, so much to appreciate about my life.
I am still fumbling, even when there is light.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
What lessons have you learned when you are inconvenienced? How do you deal with interruptions in normalcy? What experiences can you share about what you learned when facing a power outage?
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
I lived in a small city in India, where everyone knows everyone. Electicity gets cut for few hours to few days in summer especially. That was just part of life unless you were rich enough to have a backup generator for you house.
when it happened at night, the neighbourhood people come to gether play games and socialize. If you were one the family who slept on the terrace than you would just play cards to try to talk to the neighbour across the terrace.
During the day, you can’t do anything , you are already wet from head to toe in sweat if you move too much. you are going to sweat more. If there is no ice cold water in the house to quench your thirst and all you can do is read something or be still. If you neighbour was nice enough, they might give you ice cubes for your house because they own a generator. Or they would say just send your kids over there and let them play.
When I moved here to US, I noticed that Electricity was never cut except in August 14, 2003(big northeast blackout). My whole neighbour hood was out of their house and people were sharing foods, drinks and playing games. I lived in that house three years and I never knew who my neighbours were or anything before that blackoout. It felt like I was in India.
The last couple of weekends we have been traveling and have been without Internet access. While it wasn’t exactly a power outage, not being able to check our email (or, for me, my blogs) felt at first like an inconvenience. But over time I really appreciated having an excuse not to be online. And that, of course, made me wonder about the ways in which even something that I generally enjoy doing can feel burdensome when I turn it in my mind from a pleasure into an obligation.
Having no power where you live during the summertime? That would have made me lose my cool. Quite literally!
A gorgeous reflection as usual – turning an inconvenience into a lesson, for all of us really. Sometimes we do take too much for granted and it’s moments like these that we’re forced to take a step back to look at what we have instead of that which we don’t, and be appreciative. It’s just too bad that these things don’t happen often enough. But then again, if they do, we’ll start to take those for granted too won’t we?
Thank you for the reminder to be thankful for the little things in our lives that are so big and incomprehensible to many in other parts of the world.
Rudri you amaze me with your ability to make such an amazing thought provoking post out of an event such as losing your power. It happened to us a few months ago one night – we woke up because the baby monitor was beeping. So like you I lay there thinking of all the inconveniences and wondering how we would get the cars out of the garage in the morning if the power was not back on by then. Power is like the very basics in life such as food and water, you don’t worry about it until you no longer have it. But we all need a reminder from time to time to be thankful for all these things we take for granted.
Beautiful post, Rudri.
“Forced silence” can be a good thing, as you describe. When there’s nothing you can do, you actually have to embrace peacefulness and stillness. In a case like this with the electricity going out, you can either get upset about it (to no avail) or try to really take in the silence, the moment.
I am an absolute mess when the power goes out, or even the cable for internet. I’m twiddling my thumbs, counting the seconds. It’s horrible, I know, how we’ve become so used to these things that we take for granted.
I know this sounds odd but I actually enjoy when my routine is disrupted by an inconvenience. I like the new direction it sends me – I can be quite the girl of predictability. And I need things like the power going out to push me out of my comfort zone.
The last time ours went out I also struggled between annoyance and reprieve and then guilt. I found mysle fiwth flashlight in hand and out of habit still trying to hit the light switch on. This is a lovely post.
Lovely post. Beautifully written and so thoughtful. Thank you
” I am still fumbling, even when there is light. ”
Great line. One of my favorites actually.
I remember back when we were kids, and the lights went out, Mom and Dad would light the diyas, candles, and Dad would bring out the numerous flashlights he had tucked away in the corners of the house. We’d go outside, wave to the neighbors beside us and finally rest on the porch. Picturing the three of you makes me reminiscent of that time. We’d talk about small matters, big matters, and everything in between.
Funny how when all the the things that modern life has to give us is taken away, a sense of peace is found.
That’s exactly what I go through when the power goes out. (Though not as eloquently.) I embrace it at first, and then I get antsy.
I love how thoughtfully you write.
I don’t want to tempt fate here but I quite like it when the power fails … brings out the Dunkirk Spirit in me! I like the enforced peace and slower pace and certainly when the girls were little and the power failed at night, we pretended we were camping! It was quite fun.
I was on a similar thought train to you not too long ago when our power went out. I realized that the darkness isn’t really anything to fear…sure, we fumble around and bump into things, but we get the chance to see in a different way. A very lovely post.
My reaction to inconvenience depends on my mood. If I’m having a good day and my car’s battery dies and AAA is a while away, I have the confidence to ask someone to give my car a jump. If the same thing happens and I’m struggling keeping things together, I resign myself to sit in silence and wait (if husband is unavailable). It seems when I reach that point of resignation, I find that things aren’t so bad after all.
We have regular power outages in my neighborhood. Most of them are brief–between 10 and 15 minutes–but some can last up to 4 hours. During one of those times, I realized that reading books to my daughter was, actually, quite fun. Since then, I have read for at least 30 minutes daily. That and actually gotten on the floor with her.
The darkness really can be a teacher.
Our power never goes out. Except sometimes in the summer, when they do rolling blackouts to conserve energy. I remember them as a child, though, and how exciting it was to light candles and scramble to find flashlights (and then batteries that weren’t dead). I loved the enforced closeness and different atmosphere. Then the lights went back on and we all scattered. It was back to business-as-usual.
It’s easy to forget how privileged we are isn’t it, and just how we come to rely on modern conveniences. Before kids I used to spend hours just sitting and thinking. I was very centred then. But now, life is so busy,that when something like a power outage happens, it throws me all off kilter. I need to always be doing something. Or at least, I think I do. I think it’s an important reminder. And I appreciate this post. I’m learning so much and thinking so much because of your writing Rudri. Keep it coming, I always eagerly wait for the next post.
I notice that every time my electricity goes out, my heartrate slows, my breathing deepens, my muscles relax. The silence is deafening, in a good way. Four hours is a long time though. Teresa
I often feel the same way when I go to get a cup of water or wash my hands. I just have to turn on my sink. And clear, clean, plentiful water comes pouring out. So many people out there don’t have that luxury, and those of us who do, so often don’t realize it is a luxury.
I had to smile when reading this entry because I experienced something similar just the other night. I am still on my family trip to Europe – we were in southern Germany this past weekend. We stayed two nights at this hotel in the mountains near these gorgeous castles. The hotel had been around 100 years and was very rustic – not the usual amenities we are used to in America. Of GREAT importance – and like most hotels in Europe – no air conditioning!!! So that night, the four of us layed in our beds, exhausted from the day, with no a/c, windows open trying to get a bit of breeze in the room and we all realized how silent it was. There was NO noise outside, no street noise and no noise in our room since we had no a/c or fans. It was so odd. You always beg for silence so you can go to sleep, and here we were with ulimate silence, and lay awake, unable to sleep! I am so used to SOME kind of noise at night – my sound machine, my fans, the a/c, slight noises from the pets – but here, there was nothing! And then the universe got us back the next night, as the next night there was alot of noise outside our room – a huge party across the road from our hotel celebrating the German soccer win – the party went on until 3 in the morning! Then…we begged for that quiet of the night before! ha!!