Powerless

The power went out for a half hour this morning. We were powerless in more ways than one. It was wonderful.

I had a bath by candlelight. Bathing/showering for me is a quick, must-do item on my agenda. Relaxing is not part of the equation. Even by candlelight, I wasted no time. But there was a sense of slowing down, as the candle flickered in the room.

My Youngest woke up because everything was dark and quiet. I usually flick on lights and turn on his radio to rouse him if he sleeps in. Who knew that utter silence and darkness would be more effective?

I went around the house and opened all of the blinds. The sun hadn't started to rise, but even the moonlight reflected on the snow provided natural light. I usually don't even bother opening the blinds in the bedrooms during the day. But there was a sense of awakening to the world around us, when I let the outside light up our home.

Candles flickered in the kitchen. It was quiet - not even the hum of the fridge, computer or furnace to distract from the peace. The simple 'tick-tocks' of our battery operated clocks were the only background music to the morning.

My Youngest stayed upstairs this morning. The pitch blackness of his favorite room downstairs was of little appeal to him. It was nice to have him close by.

Soon enough, My Youngest pulled out our portable DVD player to entertain him while he awaited 'the light'. I grabbed a pen and paper and wrote by candlelight. We co-existed in the same space, but retreated to our regularly scheduled morning routines.

I was almost saddened when the lights came on a half hour later. I enjoyed the quiet of the morning, sharing time with My Youngest and feeling the sensation of not being able do any more than I was allowed to do without power.

Every now and again, it feels okay to be powerless.