nice or necessary

Today there was a funeral at our church.

In the last couple months we’ve had eight or nine funerals. We record CDs of these services, allowing the family to listen to words they may not be hearing clearly in the grief of the moment. Today, as happens sometimes, I was running the recorder while Lee was running sound.

One of the things I like to do while recording is have each element of the program on its own track. This makes finding a particular song or speaker or reading easy to find.

This morning, in addition to running the recorder, I also had to go pick up fried chicken for 100 people for a meal after the funeral. It’s something we do. Somehow, humans like to eat after the emotion of a weekend of saying goodbye.

I had to leave before the funeral would be over. Lee asked if I wanted him to keep starting new tracks for the last couple of parts of the program.

It was a great question. I could ask him to keep doing what was important for me. Or I could accept the fact that what I was doing was nice, but not necessary. Recording track is is something I like to do, it’s something that I think is nice and helpful. However, the family would be happy with a disk that has just one track.

The food arriving on time was more necessary than what I thought would be nice. And Lee didn’t need the pressure that I would be adding.

My choice of nice or necessary had the potential of raising Lee’s stress significantly.

It happens all the time. We choose to do something. That choice increases our stress signficantly. That stress changes our reactions to others. Others suffer for priorities in our head.


4 responses to “nice or necessary

  1. Oh how I’ve been there and when I was, don’t you know that I thought the stress was over poweringly what “they” were doing, that “they” weren’t nice. It started innocently when I got sick and it lasted too long.

    Soon, I was sick of everything and everybody. Every thing became about me. Nice disappeared from the words I knew. All I saw was what “they” wanted from me.

    Finally, thank God, I got sick of me, sick of feeling that way. That’s when I started to notice how many people had been trying to help me, had been waiting quietly for me to come back to myself.

  2. Stunning and oh so subtle.

    Never seen it this simply and clearly before.


  3. Liz – thanks. I always forget how often sick and stress are linked, feeding one another, especially when there is no margin. Happens every time my head explodes.

    And it always amazes me how well people can see and be willing to wait. Clearly not everyone. Some people look for opportunities to thump. But not mostly.

    Thanks, Lissa, for stopping by.

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