Here’s my power-outage schedule from yesterday and today.
It’s obvious how many inconveniences appear at once.
Gloom and anxiety circle like sharks.
Yet I was struck by something else: upside lurks here too.
My apartment sits in the city center. All day long, there’s a buzz: screech of cars lunging at green lights, hammer clang from some neighbor's fix-up, flash of billboard glow, and so on.
When the power cuts out, the whole district freezes.
Fall dusk drops fast. The odd silence shocks the ear.
The gaze turns inward on its own.
These are perfect conditions for introspection, that dive into self.
The outer world calms down, and the inner one does too.
Bad Wi-Fi kills the urge to dive into social media. Now it’s just you.
The light will return someday. But right now you’re in the “in-between”.
That's how I felt once, leaping from a plane—two or three rapt minutes adrift between sky and earth.
In that space, the grip of past and future loosens.
A paradoxical calm rises despite the chaos around.
From the dark depths come new sensations, emotions, thoughts.
For some reason, I want to be honest, completely open.
I won’t call it grace, but there is something sacred in it.
The mystery fades the moment the lights come back. I even feel a bit sad.
Still, the waking world pulls me back fast.
Piles of pings and tasks wait, impatient.
Had my flight? Time to walk the earth.
And I can’t help wondering:
Is it possible to feel grateful… for everything?
Yours sincerely,
-Alexander
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