Things like, when a total stranger says, 'I want you to record

In the words of Matt Berry, we hear the weary laughter of one who has tasted both the burden and the honor of renown. He speaks of strangers who approach him with requests—“record something for my forthcoming wedding”—and admits that such demands can be tiresome. Yet he does not curse them, nor does he allow bitterness to take root. Instead, he names it a high-class problem, a burden born only of blessing. Thus, his wisdom teaches us that even weariness can be reframed as gratitude, and that to be sought after is a mark of honor, not despair.

The ancients, too, knew this paradox. Marcus Aurelius, emperor of Rome, confessed in his meditations that he often longed for solitude, for a life without the constant petitions of the people. And yet, he reminded himself that to serve others was his duty, that their demands were proof of his station and their faith in him. Just so, Berry reminds us that the request of a stranger—though an interruption—is also a testament that his art has touched lives beyond his knowing.

In his words lies the teaching of perspective. To call something a high-class problem is to recognize that what tires us today would have been another man’s dream yesterday. The farmer, laboring under the sun, might envy the artist weary of wedding requests. The artist, remembering his own obscurity, knows well that such burdens are the sweet fruits of success. Thus, Berry shows that wisdom is not in fleeing life’s demands, but in acknowledging the hidden blessing they contain.

History gives us further proof. Beethoven, in his later years, found himself plagued by endless admirers who begged him for compositions, letters, or autographs. Though often ill and deaf, he recognized that their very pestering was proof of his genius’s reach. What he called annoyance, the world called honor. So too, Berry’s reflection reminds us that fame is a double-edged gift—it brings fatigue, but also immortality.

Therefore, let it be remembered: when life burdens you with blessings, do not scorn them. A heavy crown is still a crown. The tiresome request of a stranger is a sign that your work has meaning beyond your own circle. As Berry teaches, the wise do not measure discomfort alone, but see the hidden glory in the problem itself. For the highest class of problem is still a privilege, and to carry it with grace is the mark of a noble spirit.