I know I'm getting older because I question with increasing frequency the value of what it is that I'm doing, exactly - that and because everything hurts most of the time. SuperK brought this matter up yesterday - this is the rough equivalent of humming "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" over and over in my ear. The tune is in there and it's hard to get it out.
The struggle is seeing value in the Little Things. The Little Things aren't as impressive in my mind as the Big Things. If I'm not changing the world, to great public acclaim, then I don't feel like I'm accomplishing much. The Book talks about this - apparently I'm not alone in my superficial grandiosity. The Book says that few of us can be people of great prominence, and it implies that most of us don't want to be, really, if we're being honest about it. The Book says maybe we can make a difference by arranging for the cake and coffee after a meeting, when so many suspicious newcomers can begin to sense a program that can make a real difference in their lives.
"How much does that pay, anyway?" I was tempted to ask when someone suggested that I take on the coffee making duties.
I'm glad I didn't.
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