If I were to be honest, I would have to say that the illusion of community is one of my most cynical criticisms of campus life. I feel that we toss around this idea of “community” quite haphazardly. But perhaps the power outage this past week may cause me to eat my words.

On Wednesday the power outage seemed, at first, like a gift from God. The first thing I thought was, “Finally, silence.” There was that initial glee at classes being cancelled, and I found myself sighing with relief. By six or seven, though, the fun had ended. It then became quite apparent that the masses of people spilling out of every crack of Reimer and Douglas would not soon be alleviated. An intense annoyance boiled inside of me. “Why is there nowhere quiet to study?” I cried.

I shuffled past groups of residents on laptops talking on MSN and not to each other, and felt a little anxious because of the intense murmur of conversation in the Caf. The power outage soon turned from a fun respite from work to an unforeseeable homework diversion that came at the worst of times.

There is a high-stress vibe around campus this time of year because procrastination is no longer an option for anyone. O-week is definitely over, and no one wants to be bothered with playing nice anymore. Students scaring unsuspecting residents in stairways, congregating near the emergency lights, and coming together to discuss rumours over the storm did not rekindle the spirit of dorm life in me.

It wasn’t long, however, before I realized how endearing the whole situation was. Once I looked past my own desires and annoyances, I realized how nice it was to see people together. The hermits were forced to mingle. The lack of space meant eating and studying with complete strangers. Seniors were bumping shoulders with freshman, which is typically unheard of. “Finally,” I thought, “community.”

So while I’m not happy about missing precious hours of last minute paper writing, I’m glad we went through it. When this time of the semester rolls around, it’s more convenient and, most times, beneficial to just think about yourself.

I’m not trying to preach a “stop and smell the roses” life lesson or anything; I simply have realized that, instead of complaining, sometimes the unexpected just needs to be embraced. If we had had electricity, the week would have been less stressful, but more mundane.

Next time the occasion arises, I’m going to make a conscious effort to not get so annoyed at the bomb-shelter vibe in the Caf, and just enjoy the company.