We Lost Power

and what I learned when it was restored

Photo by Paolo Nicolello on Unsplash

It’s Wednesday morning, cold, rainy, and unforgiving, typical Seattle November. Kalt dunkelflaute is a German term for the dark doldrums of winter, though technically we have another month until the Winter Solstice. I’ve dug out all the candles, tapers in my mother’s old candlesticks, scented candles from my friends Erin, Amy, Mo. The house, though dark and cold, smells great, like a yoga studio or spa. The power went out last night in the middle of Law and Order, a not guilty pleasure. I can’t quite read by candlelight until it gets a little lighter out. I can’t scroll on my phone because every percent of charge must be saved to refresh the Seattle City Light web site every ten minutes to see if any progress is being made to restore the power. I’d never heard the term “cyclone bomb.” Chris thinks it’s made up by the media. It was very windy for sure, trees falling, part of our fence came down, power lines severed all over the region. But on Wednesday I was still cheerful as Chris navigated the french press because we could still light the gas burners, and the hot water heater still had enough hot water for us each to shower quickly.

The vet lost power too so they cancelled the dogs’ appointment. I rescheduled three zoom calls, including two tarot readings. I decided not to write or post my Substack. My calendar was cleared. Luckily our bookstores still had power and going to work was a respite and I was grateful for that normalcy. After work we went out to eat and postponed going home to the cold and dark as long as possible, but the animals still needed to be fed and cared for.

By Friday I was a disheveled and bitter woman. The house was in disarray that I couldn’t really see, food rotting in the fridge, the dogs already half blind due to age, bumping into walls.

By Saturday I had lost hope and didn’t care that I was returning to work in the same clothes I’d worn and slept in the day before. I was unpleasant to be around. Day 5.

At the same time I felt guilty for not being stoic when so many others around the world are living like this and so much worse every day.

Chris actually seemed to enjoy the change of pace, which was annoying. He said it gave him time to think, staring at the candle’s flame, working out his math and music puzzles.

When the power was finally restored on Saturday night I felt excited, jubilant, and also overwhelmed by the laundry, cat litter box, odious freezers, and the overall sense that I had lost a week of my very ordered life and had a lot of cleaning up and rescheduling to do.

So it is Monday early morning and everything is back to normal. The cleaning and discarding and laundering is pretty much complete and I’m jumping back into the world I’ve been accustomed to living. But I can’t help reflecting on my notions of power and control, and gratitude and grace. Hanna means grace in Hebrew, and though I know I have a good sense of humor when it comes to the dark and unmanageable aspects of life, I did not respond gracefully to this lack of control over my surroundings. I was kvetchy to say the least.

The idea that I am in control of my life is central to who I consider myself to be. I take these 1440 minutes I’ve been given every day quite seriously. I realize now a little too seriously. What happened was merely a blip, an inconvenience. Power was restored. But I’m reminded that situations change without notice and hanging on so tight to the lists and the plans can lead to misery. I need to lighten up.

Thich Nhat Hahn often compares our strong emotions to a storm: “When there is a storm, when you look out the window you see the tree standing in the storm. And if you look at the top of the tree, you’ll see that the branches and the leaves will swing back and forth violently, according to the wind.” (Dharma talk, 2013) He likes to remind us that our strong emotions, like anger and fear, are like the wind, and merely affect the top of the tree in the storm. Our power resides in our trunk (though we did lose some entire trees in this storm). He reminds us to get mindful and breathe into our bellies. Every night during the outage I would do mindful breathing to help me get to sleep burrowed under blankets in the cold. It helped immensely and though all my other practices went out the window, I knew my breath was something I could control. I used it.

As we move into this week of gatherings with friends and family, along with the recognition of the historic cultural insensitivity to native peoples and the need to remember their plight, I believe we can do both at once in good faith. Gratitude never goes out of style. Being thankful for the people who love us, and sharing a meal with those close to us feels good to me, especially after last week. I think I will be especially grateful to light a candle as a symbol of hope on Thanksgiving Day, one not lit out of necessity to see, with mashed potatoes and stuffing, and my three favorite guys surrounding me and yes, football.

I cut the deck this morning and pulled The Star.

It is one of my favorite cards when I need to remember the ideas of hope and balance and light. The Star reminds us that opposing ideas can exist together, also that we exist here on this Earth, in this natural balanced world, which we participate in but shouldn’t try to control. My favorite element of this card is the eight pointed star. As the seventeenth card in the Major Arcana, in numerology the 1+7=8. The eight pointed star is important in many cultures, indicating life, new beginnings, light, and hope. In Christianity it represents resurrection and rebirth. It is also the symbol for the Mesopotanian goddess Ishtar, who represented love, war and the planet Venus, opposite ideas existing together.

November has been a cruel month.

I hope you can gather with those you love, break bread, light a candle, and remember there is hope. I am grateful for you.

xoHanna