A child and his grandfather were walking down a beach together. The child saw a small starfish that, through the missfortune of being caught on the low tide, was drying up on the sand. He bent down, and with his tiny naive little fingers, picked up the starfish and threw it back into the ocean. The old man turned to the child and said, 'why are you throwing the starfish into the water? Can't you see that there are thousands on this beach that all suffer the same fate. You can't possibly make a difference.' The child bent down and picked up another and threw it into the ocean. He turned to the old man, who's face had clearly been weathered by a similar misfortune to the starfish, and the child said, 'I made a difference to that one.' The lesson for me is to not get sold on the dream on saving every single starfish on the beach, for it may not happen in my lifetime, or even ever. So, I guess as long as I get to keep throwing those metaphorical starfish into the water - one at a time, regardless of the perception of futility, regardless of the money or kudos I get for doing it, I think my life will be well spent.