live your moments fully

as luck would have it, yesterday evening around 3:00 pm I had just stepped out onto the deck with both birds on my shoulder and settled down to have a cup of tea, when suddenly there came a great explosion (like a very nearby gunshot). Birds fluttered nervously, both dogs barked, the cat disappeared and I heard a colorful array of curses from inside the house coming from my son and husband who's separate Internet connections cut out ... in fact, the entire house had lost electricity. As had the whole neighborhood. The transformer had blown right in front of our house.

Oddly enough, this is the second time this particular transformer has blown. Once before, a visiting squirrel had somehow managed to self-destruct by climbing on the box. We'd heard the blast, and ran outside to see a blackened, smoking squirrel dead at the foot of the power pole. So this time, since we have befriended a wild squirrel "who" we've named and who takes food out of our hands and often lays on the deck with us in the evening stealing cookies and who is, quite frankly, a member of the family, we all raced frantically out the door to see if it was our beloved Vera. But there was no sign of squirrel "tampering". The transformer had just blown for no apparent reason.

I called the power company and they were there fairly quickly. However, as soon as they'd done their job of repairing it and lowered their crane, it exploded again! Right in front of everyone! The linemen were obviously confused and the neighborhood increasingly frustrated. This time, they informed us, we required a new transformer box. We were told it would be several hours before it would be fixed. Disappointment verging on depression set in for all of us way too reliant on technology and each having our reasons why we needed to be on the Internet or watch a certain baseball game or use the oven, even!

But that mindset gradually changed. My son pulled out a book and lay down on the couch to read. My husband and I went out to grab a bite to eat. As the evening wore on, we all ended up out on the deck. It was a glorious evening and the far off sunset had set the clouds ablaze and high overhead a jet liner passed, glistening pink in the glow of the setting sun. The parrots tilted their heads to watch. My son brought out his guitar and we used the gas burner on the barbecue to make tea. The dogs lay around at our feet, pleased by our decision to remain outside and together, the cat sprawled in my husband's lap and soon Vera joined us, the renegade squirrel, "asking" for McVitties Irish biscuits.

As the evening wore on, we sang songs, told stories and lit candles as the night rolled in and darkness engulfed us. A warm, gentle wind picked up and the huge cedars swayed with a comforting swoosh and lull. High above, painted clouds rolled slowly across the sky as the earth went through her rotations. Thoughts of Baseball, video games, TV... were all forgotten. The world had suddenly quieted and settled itself down to a smaller place ...somewhere safe, warm and nurturing, where the intimate bonds of a family, too often forgotten in the loud, busy world, could be experienced and strengthened. I found myself wishing the power would stay off forever.

Sometime around 10:00 p.m. the lights and power came on with a woosh, and excited hoots and hollers from the neighborhood. People gathered on the road to talk to the line-men and thank them. Their boisterous laughter ringing out like beautiful music. This was significant. What had initially been considered a curse and inconvenience had somehow brought about something familial, a sense of difficulty shared and overcome together ... a sense of community.

Today, I'm back on my computer and the electric tea kettle bubbles away and my thoughts are somehow transferred down my arms and flow out my fingers and set this keyboard to clicking, and out there ... the entire world can, if they want, hear me. It is good that we communicate this way. There are those who need to know they are not alone, and this may be the only way for them to connect. I am lucky. Blessed, I say.

And yet, I wonder what we've given up for this ability to connect with an entire world. What do we lose when we attempt to expand ourselves to such extremes. Especially when we can never truly give our whole hearts to the world as we can to our friends and families. How deep and richly patterned our lives become when we return to the fold, when we simplify. These are the experiences of which stories are told and books are written. And so, I learned something. Something I always knew but of course, needed to be reminded of: Real life is a series of incremental, intimate happenings. Don't let them pass you by. Live your moments fully.