A Baby’s Cry
My wife and I attend Catholic services all over the world, and the same words and ritual are pretty much occurring at the same time in every service, with local charms: In Bora Bora, they use conch shells in stead of bells, and in Las Vegas you can put casino chips in the collection basket. (The junior priest assigned to collect and redeem them is called the “chip monk.”)
In one huge church in downtown New York, a baby crying during the priest’s sermon caused him to rebuke the mother, saying, “You can take the child into the vestibule, and you can hear the Mass from there.” When a similar situation occurred in our home parish, at a key part in the sermon, the priest laughed and said, “A baby’s cry in church is a wonderful thing!” (The priest in the New York church was removed not long after that incident, I often wondered if because of it.)
There are interruptions in our lives which are natural, unpreventable, and recurring. I can forward my phone, but I’m not about to lock the door to my office to stop my wife from asking which pair of shoes she should wear. I may be engrossed in writing, but I’ll stop to watch some birds on my ledge, and manage to pick up my train of thought again. (As I write this, Buddy Beagle is barking like a crazy dog at one of our handymen outside whom he’s known for eight years!)
Your focus and your passions should overcome brief detours from the task at hand. Questions from the audience don’t deter me from proceeding to the next point in my speech, even if they prompt a 20-minute digression that I deem worthwhile. I can pull off a highway to watch a sunset and not forget that I was on my way to a restaurant.
Life is about stimuli. Don’t be obsessive about nose-on-grindstone. By all means plan to complete those issues that are important for your goals. But listen to the rain, smell the coffee, and watch the passing parade of life. You might just find inspiration, or even a shortcut.
© Alan Weiss 2012. All rights reserved.
Daryl Gerke
Thanks for the very beautiful thoughts, Alan.
Shirley
I remember a few years back we attended my brother’s military retirement ceremony… quite the pomp & circumstance. During his speech, not only my daughter but another child were either babbling or crying (I don’t remember which at this point!)…. and my brother simply interrupted what he was saying to tell us not to fret and not to remove them… that having grown up in our large family, these types of sounds were the “background noise of my life, and I wouldn’t have it any other way; in fact, I don’t know what I would do without them!”
I thought that was a fantastic way to put it, and have kept it as my own perspective ever since. I see your approach – embracing the moment and incorporating it into the flow – as much in the same positive (and as a result: productive) vein.
Alan Weiss
It’s rather arrogant to believe the world has to stop just because you’re speaking!