Project Vision 21

I recently had to repair a section of the irrigation system in front of my house because tree roots decided to “strangle” (metaphorically speaking) the plastic pipe carrying the irrigation water. The repairs were simple, but I was struck by the fact that the interaction between root and pipe had been going on for about 20 years before reaching its climax.

I reached this conclusion by considering when the tree was planted and when the irrigation system was installed. Over those two decades, the root and the pipe coexisted in close proximity, slowly drawing nearer to one another until, one day, they made contact. Initially, nothing happened, but over time, the root began to crush the pipe.

The entire drama unfolded underground. No one witnessed the slow approach, the first crack in the pipe, or the moment it snapped in two. The tragic end of the “friendship” between root and pipe only became apparent when water began pooling on the surface, revealing that something had gone wrong.

This situation made me reflect on how (again, metaphorically speaking) similar scenarios play out in real life. We begin to coexist with something or someone, sometimes for decades, drawing ever closer day by day, without realizing we are in danger—that this closeness to “the other,” which we deemed safe, is actually anything but.

Let’s be honest: many of us have experienced someone entering our lives, initially keeping a respectful distance, then becoming a constant presence, only to discover, when it is already too late, that the person harbors truly harmful intentions.

Yet, it is not always about a person. Sometimes it involves a behavior or a habit that initially seems normal and harmless; over time, it very slowly gains our trust until one day—without us even noticing—it begins to crush us, eventually “suffocating” us (so to speak). And in this instance, the damage can rarely be undone.

While examples abound, they are unnecessary here. We have all known or experienced situations where something—initially appearing harmless, positive, or even appealing—draws close, wins our trust, and becomes part of our lives, only to eventually (whether intentionally or not) reveal its true nature.

In some cases, this “revelation” occurs quickly—sometimes within minutes—such as at the end of a sales pitch or when someone says, “Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” In other instances, decades may pass before a person or a habit makes it clear that, from the very start, they harbored specific plans that did not take our well-being into account.

Obviously, I am not suggesting that we should constantly distrust every relationship or habit. However, we must not mistake “closeness” for safety or good intentions.