Still Powerless

After All These Years

Connection to power looks like this — I haven’t had it.

There was a distant sound of thunder, then a peculiar sensation of simultaneous sound and movement, like a big bug flew into a mosquito zapper. After that, a clunk. I cocked my ear. The sounds did not repeat, so I shrugged and continued. Electricity does not matter in daylight sunshine, and time has no significance on a mid-spring morning, so I didn’t know the power was off for fifteen or twenty minutes.

Once I realized, this is what I did:

I turned the garage light off and on several times. I tried to light the stove, and had to use a lighter. As I moved through the house, I pulled the cord on the overhead fan, which has three speeds, and flipped every switch on/off, or just on. I even dialed the furnace up, though I was not chilled, just to prove the furnace would light, but the fan would not blow.

I went to the fuse box to check for a tripped switch. After a circuit of the house, I studied the fuse box schematic, and flipped the garage switch off, then on. The garage was where I stood when I realized the power was out, so that must be important. The garage is also where I had some repair done on my water heater yesterday. The two must be related, hmm? After the third turn through the house, I arrived at the fuse box, and flipped every switch off-then-on.
Finally, irritated and rather aggrieved, I pushed the “Main” switch off. I expected fireworks as I thumb-wrestled it back to the “ON” position. Silence. It was an ex-parrot; not even a fjord would revive it. (Do you laugh yet? I feel quite foolish) I have walked through my house several times in different order by now. I have reported a power outage online as well. There are over five thousand others without power as well. (That is when I believed.)

Finally, I began to do things that did not require electricity. I read an article by Peter Sagal in AARP Magazine, called Dear 23-Year-Old Me. It told me to relax about the things I thought were so important (I can stay up as late as I want!). It was very good and just what I needed. Because of the article, I paused to ask myself what was really important.

Then I began to repot a banana palm by testing the soil. I mixed dirt and water, set a timer, then added a catalyst. I researched the palm’s needs with a book — no electricity required. Because I touched earth, I began to trust my connection a little. I opened my doors and windows, letting the crisp spring atmosphere cleanse my winter-shadowed home. I began to breathe deeply, which signaled my body to relax.

Let me tell you what I did not:

I did not get a single response from electric appliances or components, but…I did not stop trying! I tried to wrestle or trick a reply from my belongings.
I did not believe the power was out through no action of my own. It had to be about me if I experienced it…right? I did not believe I was powerless! I thought I needed to find the right action. I did not relax. Not once; not even for a moment.

The power came back on at 12:30 pm. The house began to glow and hum with the things I had turned on while the power was out. Digital numerals blinked, fans spun. I toured the house, turned things off.

Here’s what else happened:

The early interruption reset my day for me. Instead of electricity use, I went outside to play. I tuned in to birds: a repeated trill, some occasional pips. A lawnmower droned in the distance.

I felt the grit of soil and the chill of water on my hands. Cottonwood blossom husks stuck to my feet with a sickly-sweet resin. I put seeds in dirt. I saw sunlight dazzle off water, tumble like silver coins. My eyes watered.

Sunshine, dirt and water — perfect recipe for happiness

I regret many things in my life, things I did not know before. But now I know — what will I do?

I do not regret today. I spoke to a neighbor, remembered and recited a saying I like, and pampered some fellow earthlings. I dreamed pleasantly of a loved-one, enjoyed a second cup of coffee, sang a snatch of song, and went outdoors wearing my pajamas.

So, what is the point? Maybe there is no point. There doesn’t need to be. Or maybe the point is that I can relax, someone else is in control. Perhaps my sense of self-importance needs to be reminded of powerlessness occasionally.

Call to action:

It’s a reminder to take the day off.

Quick, don’t just do something; stand there. Steve Addington, in the movie Surfer, Dude (2008)

“Humility is confidence properly placed.” Don De Jong