There’s something nice about losing power. I don’t just mean that I “have” to eat ice cream now simply to rid my warming freezer of its burden—though that is nice—but there’s also the communal feeling of it all. The feeling that we’re all in this together.
Maybe it’s the fact that there’s no Facebook or texting, and no one in my neighborhood can while away time swapping nonsense with people in other cities, but suddenly everyone is super neighborly. The whole town is out, walking their dogs and their kids, feeling the fresh air on their face after two days of hiding from Sandy in their own homes, quickly getting sick of the same faces they’ve been staring at all day.
Everyone is smiling at each other knowingly, commiserating and swapping stories of fallen branches and spoiling milk. The few local shops that opened up are seeing unusual numbers of weekday shoppers, as people excuse their outdoor excursions with sudden needs for potato chips and warm soda. One shop set up an outdoor breakfast selection, coffee being snatched up in cups by those of us who don’t remember how to make coffee without the help of Keurig or Starbucks.
We have nowhere in particular to go and nothing in particular to do. Sandy has given us the gift of time, and we’re all using it to catch up on those household chores and homework essays we’ve been pushing off, never expecting to actually get it done in such a leisurely manner. My wall paintings are finally up. Books are unpacked and two homework assignments completed. And all, miraculously, done without the help of the Internet (though my fingers did itch for the familiar mindless clicking of some Facebook procrastination between essay paragraphs).
I can’t say I’m completely enjoying this blackout—I have no idea if I have school tomorrow because even my 3G is down, and I can’t say the idea of another day of instant coffee and meals of whatever-will-otherwise-go-bad appeals to me all that much. But for now, the quiet is nice. The camaraderie of being stuck in a post-storm city with neighbors visiting for movies on our long-lasting Macs has an old-school charm to it. I’m brushing my teeth at night with the light from my iPhone, like they did in the olden days.
I don’t mean to say that a hurricane is all fun and games. This hurricane alone has killed over 70 people already. Thousands are rendered homeless and shelters are being set up all across the state for the overflow. But even with that– an amazing show of solidarity is being displayed, with those of us who are suddenly off work and school devoting the free time to helping those affected in more striking ways. Words of kindness are offered up across social media; we’ve all felt how fragile our normal lives are, and it makes us realize that our normal lives may not be all that integral to our happiness.
It almost makes me wish hurricanes came about more often. Minus the hurricane.
