Have you ever had to deal with a prolonged power outage?
In Cuba, this question has ceased to be an anecdote and has become a daily experience that sets the rhythm of our lives. Blackouts are not just the absence of electricity—they are the abrupt interruption of routine, the forced disconnection from the world, the emergence of silences that weigh more than they seem. And above all, they are a reminder of our fragility and our capacity to adapt.
When the power goes out, something inside us also shuts down. Connectivity vanishes, the heat becomes unbearable, sleep is disrupted, productivity comes to a halt. But the hardest part isn't always material—it's the psychological toll. The uncertainty, the irritability, the feeling of being trapped in a cycle we don't control. The mind tires, the mood contracts, and the body responds with stress, anxiety, or exhaustion.
Yet, in the midst of that forced darkness, we also discover inner resources we sometimes forget. Reading a book, listening to music, or exercising are well-known strategies for coping with a blackout, but they aren't the only ones. The key is to transform that imposed time into an opportunity to reconnect with ourselves and with others.
One powerful option is writing. No grand purpose is needed—just let your hand move across the paper. Writing frees, organizes, accompanies. It allows emotions to find an outlet and the mind to breathe.
Another alternative is conversation. In times of constant screens, a blackout can become an unexpected chance to speak without rushing, to truly listen, to share family stories, memories, worries, or dreams. Paradoxically, darkness opens up a space of intimacy that electric light sometimes scatters.
We can also turn to activities we almost always save for "when there's time": tidying a drawer, looking through old photos, planning personal goals, meditating, breathing mindfully, drawing, embroidering, cooking something simple, or simply sitting in silence observing our surroundings. Each of these actions, no matter how small, helps restore a sense of control and reduce emotional tension.
And then there is, of course, the power of community. Blackouts teach us that resisting alone is harder. Sharing a candle, a thermos of coffee, a conversation in the hallway, an unexpected laugh—can completely transform the experience. Everyday solidarity is a form of light.
Power outages affect us, tire us, wear us down. But they also force us to stop, to look at ourselves, to reinvent the way we inhabit time. It's not easy, but within that darkness there are small lights we can turn on from within.
Note: I have used the DeepL Translate translator.
The images are my own, taken with my Samsung J2 phone.
