It was Thursday morning and I was up early. Not because the alarm went off. No, it was the rain lashing against the bedroom window that woke me. Woke me before the alarm that was set for 5:00. So I got up.
Fifteen minutes later the power went out.
It was a blackout: no power, no lights, no heat, no opening the refrigerator, and no computer.
A day and a half later (37 hours, but really, who's counting) we still didn't have power.
But I was still flipping switches.
You'd think that after 37 hours I would have stopped.
It wasn't that I was hoping the power was back, it was utterly clear that it wasn't. It was habit. An especially bad habit in light of things.
At least a dozen times I flipped a wall switch. And each time it was the same thing. Nothing.
It was worse than nothing.
I was ready to scream. Well, I did scream. It was so frustrating.
Flipping the switch was flipping me out.
The headlamp gave me what I needed: a beam of light.
All the light I needed and a fresh approach to a nagging problem.
The illustration at the top of this email is newspaper blackout. In the storm's aftermath, I couldn't resist the combination.
I studied the words until something popped:
The point is to see it fresh.
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