Sometimes it seems, it my relationships with others of my kind, that I am walking in a vast swamp, where most of the ground is a deep, muddy morass.  The vast majority of my kind are mired deep within this muck.  I seem somehow to be able to discern and gain the dry, high points in the swamp, and so pass through relatively unencumbered, although, it must be said, not without mishap nor stain.

Every so often I may encounter a soul I particularly admire and wish to help in its efforts to be freed from the muck; but no matter how I may pull and tug, I am usually unable to drag the soul from its prison into the light of day.