Yesterday the electricity died. It amazes me that such a simple concept, which we all have become so familiar and dependent on, can cause discomfort in our day-to-day lives. No hot water, no tea or coffee. No warm food, unable to cook. No electronic form of entertainment, although I did use what little power was left on my laptop to write a few sentences.
As the morning turned to afternoon, everything seemed as per usual, but the appliances were all still temporarily in limbo. On the up side, there was nothing to steal my attention and I managed to start writing a story that I plan on turning into a novel. With the absence of electricity I was able to submerge my thoughts deeper into my story. I created an alternate world, a fantasy world. It is only the beginning, but the ideas are there.
As the afternoon slowly became evening, the trees began casting shadows upon the bedroom wall. I witnessed the sun dim as it traversed beyond the horizon, leaving me with light shades of shadow. As I sat in the darkening room, there was no electricity to create an artificial ambiance. The air was becoming cooler; darker. I sat in growing darkness, just listening to the world. Listening to other people’s lives play out.
Darkness was now on shift and the evidence of dead electricity was obvious. How did the past cope? I had no choice but to embrace the death. I turned to the faithful ancestor of electricity, the humble flame. The flame could not power a TV or a kettle, and barely emitted enough light to read. Yet there was something about sitting quietly in the dark with a few flames flickering for comfort. Whilst I sat in the company of my thoughts, it wondered; “We, humans, have come so far. We are so technologically advanced, we can send a man into space, we can communicate the world over, and produce just about anything. But what do we have without the electricity to give life to our imagination?” The times have changed and the pulse has quickened, the humble flame can no longer perform the duties we require. We now have the blessing of electricity. Is it a blessing, or is it a curse? I suppose it depends on which side of the fence you are on; the side that has it, or the side that doesn’t. Everyone mourns the death of electricity. Perhaps in its death we gain freedom. Freedom from our attention stealing devices. These are the thoughts that crept in the day the electricity died.