Starfish

There’s that old story about the man on the beach who’s picking up hundreds of tiny starfish that have washed up onto the sand and throwing them back into the ocean. Over and over. Someone approaches and tells him that he is wasting his time, he can’t make a difference, because there are thousands of starfish washed up with every single tide, multiplied by every beach in the world where it happens. The man looks down at the starfish in his hand, and says, “It makes a difference to this one.”

How does this story apply to me now? Now is the key word. Now is a tiny starfish in my hand, asking for life. I can’t save all the starfish in the sea, and I can’t guarantee that I can make any impact in the whole span of my life—even for a week at a time. I have only this moment. It’s a precious gift, to do something now. What will I choose, how will I invest this moment, or this day? I could go back to bed, or I could eat bonbons on the couch. I could indulge in any of my familiar patterns—the ways I’ve habitually escaped my feelings, my responsibilities, my challenges—I’ve been addicted to avoidance. Procrastination is how I anesthetized myself to escape the now, to mute the call to something better. Today is a starfish in my hand. It has a past and a future, but only this moment is alive with possibility. I can let it die, waste its potential, or I can invest it in what is meaningful. Good can only be made real in this moment.

Leave a comment