I decided, as it was Sunday, "Why not sleep in a little longer?" My HD dreams could certainly entertain me for a couple more hours, by which time power would definitely be back, right? Wrong.
About 7 minutes later, with sleep proving very elusive, I rolled out of bed and made myself the only edible thing in the house. A cup of black coffee, which I must say I could gladly live on.( Confessions of a caffeine junkie). I grabbed an old magazine and settled back into bed for a read. 11 minutes later, bored out of my mind, I grabbed some yarn and decided to start on a scarf for a friends daughter. I figured I could ponder life's mysteries as I watched the wool weave into something.
No such luck.
Now, usually, I am on Twitter or Facebook or Instagram(MissKihoro) or Pinterest or Tumblr (Rehab anyone) or the general web, every other minute, updating myself on what's going on but at this point, I resorted to putting my phones far from me, to avoid the disappointment of a blank screen every time I tried to check on any one of the sites for anything new.
Another thing, my car is at the garage, and has been for a couple of weeks now, so what would have been my default plan as soon as I woke up to just up and leave and look for a friend with power at their house to hang out, was not a viable option. And yes, I could have just taken a matatu, right? Again, wrong. Because that would have entailed my getting out of my pyjamas, getting in the shower and actually getting dressed. Which doesn't fly with me most Sundays.
Fast forward to 3:30pm, my mum stopped by for a bit, so I grabbed a ride to the kiosk up the road to buy some groceries. Got back home, whipped myself up something to chew on. And then...blank.
I got restless again and decided to take a walk. I asked the watchmen why KPLC had not shown up. Apparently it was an internal problem, our electricity hub got flooded and subsequently the cables got soaked. But, one block had power. KPLC was not gonna come through to fix THAT problem on a Sunday, despite several calls from other residents. I wanted to scream.
Knocked on a neighbours door, looking for company, no one was home. Or maybe he just didn't feel like my company because his car was parked outside. I skipped my other neighbour's house because I didn't want to go through the same disappointment of finding nobody home. Phones were dead. Couldn't call.
I retreated to my house. Ready to start counting the strands on my carpet to pass time. I did my nails. Yikes.
It started to grow dark, and the looming rain laden clouds hastened the darkness. I realized I had about 3 candles left. What to do. I created a little cove on the floor right next to the window, found some little scented tea lights, and the three candles. I pulled some magazines close, and stacked a couple of books closer. I vowed to sit there, in the silence, and do whatever came to me.
|Floor Chill Out.|
It was hard. Slowing my mind down. I realized that it's been ages since I had done this. Sat in silence. And allowed my mind to just stop and breathe. The moment I started to contemplate the calm, the trees outside my window and the now torrential rain pounding the ground, I balked, and grabbed whatever was close. Which included my hair. I really did pull my hair out that day. Lot's of it. Anxiety at its worst. I found a camera. Took a few pictures. Of the rain drops. The window. The candle flames. The trees. I was too afraid of being still. I thought of a friend, far away, having taken a vow of noble silence, and spending 2 weeks meditating for 11 hours a day. With no phones. No paper to write on. Nothing to read. Nothing. Just silence. How on earth do you even begin?
I then went through half a magazine, careful not to fall asleep because that would mean a night of wakefulness, lying in bed staring into the dark with no source of light as the candles would be done, (I sometimes get really afraid of the dark.) I then grabbed a book, Dan Brown's "Lost Symbol", which I have been eyeing but have been too taken by Haruki Murakami. The book was a great choice. I read it for about 3 hours, and it kept me gripped, and finally retreated to the bedroom where I read for another hour, then took something to help me sleep, without which, I would have stayed awake, the candles would have run out, and I would have been left clawing my hair out.
Next morning, woke up and BOOM. Electricity was back.
I'm secretly hoping for another situation like this one. I need to confront my stillness.