Connected

I've been thinking lately about oral history. Our power went out one night recently after a storm, and we were left in the relative dark with no computer (gasp!) and no TV(horrors!). Hubby and I sat in the living room, at a loss without our electronics. I thought about the times before electricity, and what people did then to entertain themselves, if they had time for such frivolity after working themselves to the bone. They probably sang and played music for themselves or told stories about the past and present. The stories told held importance, were the means of teaching the lessons of life. The words reminded people of the events of their own history and their elders'. There was a sense of continuity and connection with the past.
Our culture now seems to pride itself on independence from the past, independence from others. We live separately, in our cubicles, bathed in LED light, connected by electricity instead of by humanity. This separation protects us from the pain of the past, but also condemns us to suffer the pain of the present and future without help from our neighbors and family. Community and history are connected.
History provides perspective, as well. Looking at events in context makes difficulty easier to bear. This is not to dismiss the pain of life, but to acknowledge that pain is not the only ingredient of life.
Pain has an evolutionary purpose, in some cases--to protect us from repeating injurious behaviors. For example, the pain of New Orleans' refugees should teach us something, many things, about the inequity in our society, the wisdom of putting ourselves in danger's path, the power of fear. The pain in my life teaches me to hold on, because pain dulls and recedes, and is interrupted by pleasure, contentment. Pain can cause us to become angry, which can lead to either self-destructive behavior or attempts to improve the situation.
Understanding the pain of others close to us, pain presented as part of a story, pain in the news can only lead to more community. Actually doing something to alleviate another's pain, tearing down the walls of our cubicles, using technology to unite with far-flung members of the autistic world, will help us feel connected, in the human sense, not electronically.