(written October 13, 2015)
Today I am feeling empathy for the “Little Boy Who Cried Wolf”. After posting about the terrible conditions in Presevo experienced by the people seeking refuge, I woke up this morning to discover that the flow of people dried up over night. There were literally only five people seeking refuge left in town. The processing center had finished registering everyone and shut down operations for the night.
Today the sun was out, the flow of people was very light and the energy of the town was quite positive. The police smiled and responded when I said dobradan (good morning). I saw lots of acts of little kindness and consideration. We even had the municipal garbage service pick up the tons of garbage that has been accumulating since Saturday. Presevo was a different place and today was almost like a day off.
So what if the crisis is over and we no longer need so many volunteers? What if I’ve solicited money and volunteers that is really not needed? Did I over-react to calf-deep water in the streets and hypothermic kids? Of course, I know that I wasn’t over-reacting and that there are no words to describe the intensity of the misery. But, what will people think if they arrive in response to my description?
What I am learning is how difficult it is to live in a situation where there is no way to anticipate, where all is uncertain. Our supply of volunteers and materials seem to be constantly out of synch with the need. We are over-extended by the heavy flow of people and inadequate number of volunteers one day so we recruit moe volunteers only to have the flow of people slow the next day leaving volunteers without enough to do. Or we will have a rainstorm and request raincoats only to have cases of unneeded plastic raincoats arrive just as the sun comes out.
I realize that this is just a magnification of the uncertainty that is all of life. There really is no certainty but our extensive commercial and government systems insulate us from having to experience this. We live in the illusion of predictability and normalcy. Here, that veneer has been totally destroyed and we are forced to face the vivid and painful reality of not knowing.
My plans and expectations and elaborate schemes all seem pretty silly. And yet, without looking ahead and trying to anticipate, nothing complicated can ever get accomplished. So I am reminded that everything we are doing is an experiment or a prototype from which we will hopefully lean something. And part of what I am learning is the importance of accepting my own and other people’s feeble attempts to plan or control anything and a realization that getting it “right” is totally an illusion and a set up for negative emotion.
Time now for bed. I wonder what surprises I will wake up to tomorrow.
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