Ten-Finger Exercises

An eye-opening earful

Bill woke up early this morning, four-ish, and evidently sat around stewing about the recent turns his job and those of his co-workers have taken. The shift from working for CSEPP to a county job seemed like a good thing at first. Now it's looking like a nightmare. The old group worked together as a team. Now, one by one, they're leaving. The decisions are now from the top down without the input of the people who know what the jobs are about. Those remaining are at the breaking point.

I knew Bill was stressed, but I didn't know how bad it was until this morning. Suddenly all my little blog-size complaints are taking on a new perspective. Not that I'm planning to say, "Oh, poor dear, never mind what I want or need. What do you need?"

For one thing, I'm not that unselfish.

For another, I know that it isn't an either/or proposition.

We both have needs, sometimes for entirely different things, and somethings those needs conflict. Or are mutually exclusive.

When I was taking Clinical Pastoral Education years ago, an on-the-job sort of supervised training in a hospital with lots of group work, we often used the word "issue." "What's the real issue here?" someone would ask.

The working definition of an issue was, "How do you choose between x and y?"

In the clinical setting, an example of this would be: how do you choose between chemotherapy, which might extend your life but will probably decrease the quality of it, and taking your chances without it?

In the hospice setting, it's more often: how do you choose between relief from pain and sufficient clarity of mind to interact with others?

Frequently, in any setting, it boils down to: how do I choose between what I want and what you want? Sometimes compromise is the answer. Sometimes it isn't even an answer.

"My, Wren, whatever took you off on that tirade?" Rupert asked. "Sounds like you're working up to something momentous!"

"I did get a little too philosophical, didn't I? Quite honestly, I don't know where I was headed. Got steamed up and just kept going. I don't think it's all that serious."

Margot came into the room, knocking on the door jamb as she entered. "Yoo-hoo. Is that you I hear pontificating, Wren? It must have been. Well, here's the solution to that 'issue' as you called it. The answer is 'Love.' Always has been."

They both stared at her.

"To which question?" asked Wren, imperiously.

"No, no, Wren. She's right," said Rupert. "At least this time."