Do you ever find that there's only a microscopic line between
a) helping to solve a problem, and
b) harboring and nurturing its continuance?
I can't even wrap my mind around how two objectives, so seemingly starkly-contrasted, could be so easily confused for each other. "The heart motive is what really counts." The heart motive...really? What if I want to help someone who doesn't want to help themselves? What if my "help" is feeding into their precious idyllic mental state that allows them to take and take until the giver has nothing left, and then move on to the next eagerly willing and sympathetic donor?
The tree most definitely wants to grow, to advance, to flourish in this big, bad world. It has one goal: to advance toward heaven. But with each passing day, the energy it expends to push its greens further and further gets spread ever thinner and thinner to each life-hungry leaf, which have no idea of the tree's lofty aspiration and hopeful destination. Each leaf has a mind of its own, taking the path of least resistance in any direction that path may lead.
In an ideal situation, we would conclude that the proper growth process would be to funnel this life-form's efforts toward the most productive and efficient trajectory. Pruning can't be an enjoyable process, but it is undeniably the most healthy process a tree can take, when a tree wants to go in the direction of the skies, anyway.
Unfortunately, good-hearted and well-intentioned efforts such as this are not without misunderstandings and backlashes.
"Perception is reality, but only until reality comes and beats the living hell out of perception." ~my dear lover
And sometimes reality takes its sweet, leisurely time and leaves the good-hearted to either defend themselves or subject themselves to utter revilement and rejection by the objects of their affection.
However, the truth, in reality, will speak for itself. It can be but ignored before the ignorant one is seen as such by all who surround, or before he decides that truth, reality, is more to be desired than the saving of his own proverbial face.
Now. Frustration with rejected attempts at making nice no longer exists with me. Joy is a personal choice, and I've chosen to internalize the joy I've been given, and let no accuser steal. Beautiful life is ready to be redeemed, and I plan to extract every miniscule smattering of it I set my eyes, ears, heart on.