The past few days, in a variety of ways, have been somewhat odd for me. As for my day, I sat quietly filling out the second of two applications in order to join the First Oregon and the Northwest Civil War Council, so that I can mail it off tomorrow [1], and also reading a sizable book on statistical reasoning, when I was interrupted in the midst of my reading by a phone call from an unexpected Washington number. I always get a little concerned when getting random calls from the 360 area code, but in this particular case the call was from the special music coordinator at the feast site I will be attending to (God willing, of course), who informed me that I was the only person aside from herself that signed up to do any sort of direction, and asked if I would be willing to direct the children’s choir there. I said I would be willing, and we also talked about the fact that I was needed for the hymn ensemble as a violist and for the teen and young adult choir as a tenor in addition to my usual singing with the adult choir. Given all of this, I figured that my service for this year in music meant that I was maxed out as far as any sort of reasonable service that I could be asked to do. Given that I am totally unfamiliar with the area, it struck me as a bit worrisome, given some of the other e-mails I have received about an absence of people to be involved in various aspects of service for the Feast of Tabernacles, that there were so many jobs unfilled with little interest in anyone in filling them. For myself, there is always the attempt to delicately balance the need to keep myself from being burned out and reaching my final straw at frustration over being overburdened and my compulsion to ensure that to the best of my ability nothing that I can do is left undone.

Recently, among my circle of friends and friends of friends, there has been an alarmingly large number of separations and divorces and other serious marital strains. Last night while I was at dinner, for example, one of the people there talked about her relationship with her first husband, and how at first she liked his witty but fierce putdowns of his parents, until she realized later on how abusive he was as a husband to her. I commented how the treatment of one’s parents might be a fair way of determining one’s likely behavior as a spouse. Others commented on how people tended to be impressed with those who seemed to have everything under control, only to realize after marriage just how controlling they were, so disinclined to communicate or appreciate, to seek input, or to show empathy towards others. Still other situations led me to ponder on deliberate forgetfulness of anniversaries and other important days, and the fact that people are not very likely to change ways that bother or offend others, even (or especially) spouses, unless the desire to please or show regard and favor to those people outweighs one’s desire to remain as one is without effort or change. As human beings we all have a great aversion to deep changes in many areas of life, and we assume that what has always been accepted by others will continue to be accepted. At what point does the absence of progress amount to a final straw that snaps a relationship asunder, leaving people hurt and confused by the long train of offenses that has been collected over time.

The metaphor of the final straw, of course, refers to the proverbial problem with a horse or donkey or other beast of burden carrying a heavy weight of straw on its back, only to buckle under the weight of one final straw that is too much for the animal to bear. In many ways people are the same, in that we take on burden after burden that is more than we really can bear, until we collapse under the accumulated weight over what appear to be little matters that are simply more than we can bear. As someone who has had a lifetime of wrestling with crippling burdens of various kinds, it is a matter I am sensitive to with regards to myself and others, even if it is hard to communicate that, or to have other people communicate the sort of burdens that they I feel I put them under. Often I wonder if just as I take on more burdens than is probably good for me in my personal life, if I am simply too much of a burden for those around me to deal with effectively even on such levels as friendship. I’d like to think that I’m not easy but I’m worth it, and I suppose everyone else has to agree or disagree for themselves.

[1] See, for example:

https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2015/08/03/join-or-die/