The soft glow…

My power went off a few days ago. I wrote the following during that time…

Tonight, I have slipped back into the 19th century. Oh, not on purpose. I thought when we still had power after so many had lost theirs; I thought that we would escape the worst of the winter storm. Oh no. Whether it was an overbearing of too much power on too few lines, or a tree overburdened with ice and finally giving up the struggle, the power went out this evening. My house, all except the bathroom, will stay as warm (or as cold) as it ever gets. My bathroom, normally heated by an electric heater, now has an oil lamp and a candle ppowered flowerpot heater. Both together actually seem to make a difference in the temperature.
And here I sit at my kitchen table, writing this by the light of an oil lamp. I’m drinking tea, with the water heated by the oil lamp, and eating popcorn – cooked over the oil lamp. It is peaceful and calm. No rush, no scurry, no TV beckoning or computer games to seduce me into the bustle of the 21st century. Just me, a pen and paper, and the quiet glow of an oil lamp. This is a time of reflection, of meditation, of prayer…
There are so many things that I need to do, that I could be doing…but without power, I simply can’t. so for right now, I just have to let it go…let go and bask in the warm light of an oil lamp, writing with pen and paper, rather than the electronic stimulus and instantaneous gratification that the computer gives.
There is something soothing about the glow of a lamp. I think I could watch the flame dance for hours. A part of me wants to find a bottle of ink and a quill to write this, but I don’t have the practiced skills to do that neatly. If I were to try that, this paper would be full of glops and blotches. So I will content myself with a modern ink pen.
I love the convenience that electricity brings. It is truly a modern miracle in many ways. But sometimes…Sometimes it is good to take a step back, leave the rush and bustle of the 21st century, and return to a more natural rhythm and the warm glow of a lit wick.

Maybe I won’t wait until the next power outage to return…

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