When the lights go out

I'm often prompted into contemplation by the task of collecting answers for the “Question of the Week,” not so much the task itself, but the answers to the questions that I come up with to ask the community. This week, it was actually something that sparked the question that prompted me to ponder. It was a gorgeous Friday morning, just after 11, and quite suddenly, our power had gone out.
My first reaction was a rising panic, as I had just put the finishing touches on a rather long article, and of course, I had not saved. My problem is that I often don't save until completion of a story, because I am always unsure of what to name it, and haven't quite learned my lesson, even having lost articles in the past to this practice. Even this piece now is unsaved. I guess it is part of my creative process as a writer.
My second reaction was one of curiosity; this outage was not the usual flicker, where the power outage in the building ruins your day and comes fluttering back moments later. Myself and my colleagues slowly stood from our desks and wandered outside. Around the block, we could see other heads of business owners and workers peeking out of shops. It was this which triggered my contemplation, and in turn led me to come up with the Question of the Week: What do you like to do when the power goes out?
The thing I found to be interesting is that everyone had an answer. This was not a difficult question. The nature of these answers were ones you might expect, like board games, and reading and spending time in the garden or with family. One woman, who later declined my request to take her photograph for the feature in the paper, shared her answer with me, “We sit and read usually, if it's light enough to see. I suppose we chase the light.”
I found that to be wonderfully deep, albeit accidentally so. We live our lives with devices that hold within them all knowledge, all communication, all possible modes of electronic entertainment, and we become, in a lot of ways, prisoners to them. At any given moment in time, your phone, iPad, laptop, computer or television is no less than three feet from you. And yet, we all have a very quick and definitive answer as to things we would enjoy doing without those devices. When the power goes out, we chase the things that bring light to our lives. When was the last time you picked up a book, or made time for unplugged family time? How much dust is on those board games in your closet? How many weeds have come to claim your rose bushes? It would seem that we do indeed chase the light, and the distraction devices come equipped with a light all their own. They are so frequent in our lives that we needn't chase them; in fact, they seem in many ways to be chasing us.
When the lights go out, we seek the things which bring us light, even when that light comes from within. Maybe we can take the time to seek those things even without a power outage. To chase the proverbial light in our lives without needing to be plunged into literal darkness. It was a really beautiful day that Friday. I never would have known. And that is a shame all its own.