A few days ago Tad Richards wrote me that I should write my feelings,and today Alicia Ostriker asked me the same thing.  That’s when I suddenly realized that I have no real place for feelings right now.  A line from Yeats keeps coming back to me, from “An Irish Airman forsees his death”, “Those that I fight I do not hate.”  Acknowledging the damage and malice of those who want to destroy me, I do not want to experience the same emotions.   At the same time I do not want to be made helpless by fear, or to divert the energies of others on my welfare. I spend a great deal of time and energy trying to help others who are in need.  It began with the common shelter that we share with the others in our building.  It was never completed – the floor is a concrete that needs to be evened out, so it is hard to clean, but it can be maneuvered.  Last month I began nudging the ‘board,’  Ezi and another neighbor, that we need to air out the shelter, to clean it, to keep it unlocked and make it comfortable for sitting.  I didn’t get far – our neighbor agreed but did nothing, and Ezi felt I was exaggerating.  So at last I went down and cleaned it up.  Then – preparing the chemical toilet, toilet paper, water, glasses, games, cleaning the chairs, preparing the air filter.  That much is basic.  

Once that was settled I skipped to helping provide basic needs of families in the neighborhood who are being sheltered.  We had baby clothes saved for the next grandchild that we washed, sorted and prepared.  We are listing essential things in our home that we can part with – clothes, a spare electric kettle, a hot plate, etc.  and preparing to find homes from them.  

Our neighborhood has a whatsapp group that I cannot bear reading in ordinary times, even though it provides useful information – even about a nest of asps in the nearby clearing.  I hate the little quibbles of people I don’t know.  So the next line of Yeats’ poem is appropriate,”Those that I guard I do not love;”  

Of course now I love them all.  The tireless work of all the people who have been fighting amongst each other since the January elections, and are now together – buying provisions for the needy, sheltering the refugees, sharing hope and faith.

So what do I feel?  Busy.  

Maybe it’s a distraction.  I don’t speak to friends and family unless I can do some good for them. 

Well, that’s not quite true – we drank a bottle plus of wine last night with Oren, and tonight we’ll feast with Debbie.  Let’s just hope we don’t have to drag her two floors down to the shelter.