By Daniel Dunaief

Those of us who don’t have to justify the job we’re doing or get fired are fortunate. We know that and we don’t envy those people who have to make a solid case for keeping a job that may only provide a marginal level of satisfaction.

Apart from whatever I print on a weekly basis, it occurred to me to list some of the intangibles of various levels of my job and, perhaps, my life, recognizing that whatever I write is on the lighter side compared to the serious business of asking strangers to put them in the “okay to stay” pile.

Chit-chatting. Many of my conversations are one sided. I ask questions and then, based on the answer, continue to ask more questions. People generally like to talk about themselves, which makes the process enjoyable for both of us. I’m looking for information and they’re sharing it. More than that, though, I’m keeping the relationship open. No, I’m not in relationships with all these people, but I am helping them feel connected and, in turn, am feeling connected to them.

Gathering back stories. Everything I learn doesn’t go in the paper. That, however, doesn’t mean it’s useless. I might find out a tidbit that grows into something bigger, like a few flakes of snow that stick together. Over time, those flakes may take shape and become, say, a snowball, a snow angel, or a snow globe.

Helping people feel important. Just by reaching out to people to ask their opinions and listening to the answers, I may be giving people the peace of mind that someone is listening closely, or, in some cases, at all, to them. And, for those people who feel disenfranchised, I could also provide them with the opportunity to say, “no, go away, I don’t want to talk with you.” That, in and of itself, is empowering for them, even if it’s not exactly improving my chances of doing my job better.

Supporting all kinds of companies. I talk on the phone, I text, and I send emails. Sometimes, I even try telepathy, although that doesn’t work through a conglomerate or a telecommunications system. All these efforts are propping up the economy, making shareholders wealthier and helping sustain jobs. Oh, and I also shop at the supermarket regularly, where I talk with people who can sometimes tell me to go away, which makes them feel better, and I gather the kinds of pieces of information that might lead to a story.

You see where I’m going with this, right? I’m helping the economy, gathering information for future stories, improving the overall mental health of my community while picking up dog food, vegetables and chicken for dinner, all at the same time. How many jugglers could do all those things at once?

I’m reading other stories. Journalism, as they’ve been saying since I entered the field decades ago, is a difficult and challenging business. By reading the material that other people write, supporting some of my fellow journalists through online subscriptions or, in a few rare cases, hard copies of papers and magazines, I’m supporting an industry that includes me. You see? And, I’m staying in touch with parts of the world, our culture and the infosphere that extends outside my small circle of knowledge.

I’m pursuing my passions. No, wait, hear me out here. You see, by following the latest developments with, say, the Yankees, I’m able to talk with other people about hobbies and then I mix in that information to keep people on the phone and gather more information. It might not seem like it’s critical to know about the injured list for the Yankees, but it’s important to many fans and it helps form the bridge that leads to chit chat, information and, eventually stories.

Not just a journalist. When it comes to writing about anything, say, medicine, the environment, living my values, sharing knowledge and information, it’s helpful to be a consumer, a thinker and a reporter all at once. I write about medicine and I go to doctors regularly, I write about science and I observe squirrels in my backyard, and I write about parenting and I deal with the challenges and accomplishments of my children, sometimes within minutes of each other.

Like baseball players who alter the outcome of a game with one swing, I sometimes also strike out along the way, which makes it possible for me to search for that perfect pitch. No, I’m not perfect and not everything I do provides a linear progression from effort to accomplishment, but much of it, even actions that appear disconnected, provide value. You just have to look hard enough and be ready to understand and believe it.