I was very intrigued recently at the idea of growing a sequoia tree. When fully grown, a sequoia is a three hundred foot tall, five million pound tree. The seed for it is smaller than a popcorn kernel.
I ordered a kit. It was an amazing feeling to hold a sequoia seed in my hand, knowing that inside so unremarkable-looking a thing was the makings of a five million pound tree. I was big enough to crush it with a fingernail but someday it would be big enough to regard me as a flea.
Predictably, you know I'm going to try to draw an analogy to sobriety. Sobriety is such a small, insignificant thing that the majority of those who come through Sexaholics Anonymous will never find it or think much of it. And yet it's become the foundation of my life. It's become a beautiful tree. Lust is still waiting in the wings with his chain saw, of course.
Today is the last day of germinating the seed and now I bring it out to see if it can sprout -- a California tree in Virginia. It's meant to stay in a small plastic greenhouse in my room for a year or more, so I'll have the happiness of seeing it grow each day.
My mind, of course, is saying, "What's the point? You won't live nearly long enough to see it become anything like a three hundred foot tree," and "The next homeowner after you will likely cut it down," and so forth.
What's the point? was the question I always asked before losing sobriety, so I'm ignoring that question for today. Ignoring that question has worked well for me in sobriety.