There’s something about unexpected disruptions that force us to pause, reflect, and rediscover what truly matters. When Mother Nature decides to shake things up, we’re reminded that sometimes the best moments emerge from the chaos.
Just over a week ago, we lost power to our home. Almost without warning, the doom clouds rolled in, the fat rain started, and before I knew it, I was barefoot on the grass, putting those scout knots to good use, tying down the trampoline in gale-force winds. In that moment, wrestling with ropes in the rain, I didn’t know this storm would give us an unexpected gift – a forced pause from our everyday life.
Mid-storm, one Jack Russell was going bananas whilst his Mum was trotting around the house inspecting each room. Meanwhile, our 12-year-old locked the doggy door so the dogs couldn’t go outside and “be hit by lightning, Mum”! We bunkered down, and suddenly, at 8pm, we were in darkness.
My husband asked me to get the candles out. I don’t know why he thought we had multiple candles. We found one lovely scented candle and used the lights on our mobile phones to find the battery chargers – which were all but flat. Ironically, I’ve been working with the Energy Charter over the last few months, helping to create (lo and behold!) a Blackout Plan to prepare for unplanned power outages! But alas, I hadn’t filled one in.
Then things got weird. We had forced family time. No TV. Next to no reliable phone data or reception. No WiFi. One candle. There was a suggestion to bring out the board games, but it was met with blank stares.
We soon discovered we would be without power for the long haul, so the next day I stepped inside the local library (for the first time ever) to find a spare powerpoint and to connect to the internet to finish some client work. Miss Twelve seemed ever so keen to come with me, but I soon realised she had ulterior motives, as she came equipped with her headphones and iPad.
My next stop was the hardware store, where I discovered others had scooted in at 7am to snap up the more reasonably priced generators, leaving me to opt for some fab battery-operated camping lights. Whilst our freezers defrosted naturally, we connected to our neighbour’s generator via an extension cord for a few speedy hot showers.
They say during times like these, you find kindness and support from the least expected places. While shopping for camping lights, I received a random text that sent my daughter into a flood of tears: “Would you like to borrow our generator?” It was from a fellow copywriter who lives over an hour and a half away in Sydney. “Yes, please!”
We both navigated dodgy traffic and continuing stormy weather to meet halfway with our girls, grab lunch, and have quality banter. We still didn’t have phone service or internet at home, but at least our fridges and freezers could be turned back on for a bit, and we could shower more easily.
What 67 hours without power taught me:
* Without screens around, your body finds its natural circadian rhythm. We were all yawning by 7:30pm
* A 12-year-old’s first instinct in a storm crisis? Protect the dogs from lightning. Pure gold!
* Good neighbours share power cords, great friends drive through storms with generators
* Hardware stores at 7am are a competitive sport where the early birds get the generators
* When chaos hits your workflow, keep clients in the loop
* One scented candle doesn’t cut it, but shadow puppet theatre with phone lights does make blackouts bearable
* Who needs a weather app when you’ve got dogs? Ours are the best storm companions ever.
* Those solar batteries we kept putting off? Yeah, they just moved up the priority list
The bottom line is: it could’ve been worse.
There’s no doubt that life throws us curveballs without warning. Sometimes, it takes a storm, metaphorical or not, to show us the most memorable moments, rarely happen solo.