When the Pain Subsides

I live in a heavily arbored area of Los Angeles. I love trees. I love the shade they provide, creating the feeling of an invisible blanket fort over your head. I love the barrier they offer between the earth and the sky. So that if one day gravity were to forget to do its job, I would surely bump against a branch with the opportunity to hold on before being drawn heavenward.

There area also problems with so many trees to shade and protect—namely that when a storm or strong wind blows through our neighborhood it is extremely likely that the power will go out. It is such a regular occurrence that when the wind started to gust in our yard the other night I knew what was likely to follow—a power outage.

There is a darkness and silence from the power going out that cannot be replicated by simply turning out all the lights in your home. All the noises you haven’t noticed, the soundtrack to your life: dishwasher, laundry, heating vents that shift as they go on and off, sound machines—all of it gone with one pull of the plug.

We grumbled and shifted and searched for battery powered assistance as we adjusted. Trying to go back to sleep. Hoping, despite previous experience, that we would wake to a return of power.

All day we walked around in dim, cold rooms, feeling a bit lost. Aimlessly flipping light switches to no result.

When the power went back on over 12 hours later we did a dance of glee and prayed a prayer of thanks for electricity and all the things we take for granted. This short inconvenience made me think about the presence of discomfort, loss, disappointment or pain in my life. I know pain quite well—physical and emotional. I know the all consuming feel of a body that aches. I also know the relief when the pain subsides. The simple beauty of stepping without fear of hurt. The pain in my life has always cleared a space on the other side for joy in what otherwise might have been taken for granted.