There is a parable I heard once that I often use to describe the work I was fortunate to do in the field of alcoholism and the work I continue to do even though I no longer get a pay check for doing it.
One day I was walking along the beach. I saw an old man walking toward me. Every so often, he would kneel down, pick something up and study it for a moment. Then, he would either put it back on the beach or throw it into the sea.
As we drew nearer to each other, I noticed that the beach was littered with starfish, washed up by the tide. The old man was searching for live ones and returning them to the sea.
When we were close enough to speak, I told him how pointless his efforts were. There were too many of them. He could not possibly make a difference.
In reply, he threw a living starfish into the sea. “It made a difference to that one.” Then, he leaned closer and said, “I could use a little help.”
27 years ago, someone scraped me off the beach where I lay dying and threw me back into the sea. Now, I walk the beach with the old man. There are still too many. It's still difficult to make a difference. Some days I just don't see the point. Other days I see I made the right decision. Those are the days that matter.