They say, “the love of money is the root of all evil.” But I disagree. For me, comparison is the root of all suffering. We are taught from our earliest moments to question what we’re given, what we have, and what we want. We’re taught to observe outside ourselves to find the way to act, to learn, to worship, to behave. We’re taught to hide the part of ourselves which don’t blend well with whatever paradigm we’re supposed to fit into.
Who is blending the best?
What can I do to gain more acceptance?
It is only recently that I have begun to recognize all the ways my inner shine is diminished in an attempt to be loved. I compare myself to others who come from different circumstances. I compare myself to others who are where I want to be. I compare myself to others who are not where I want to be. I compare myself to others to feel better about where I am. I compare myself to others to rationalize what I know. I compare myself to others to make sense of what I don’t know. I compare myself to others when I feel bad about myself. I compare myself to others when I feel good about myself. I compare myself to others. I compare myself. I compare. I…
No one knows my story. No one has my experiences. No one has my gifts. I am uniquely designed to give something to this swirling ball of molten rock. And I intend to do that without guilt, shame, fear, or timidity.
In opening my creative heart, I lose the need to compare.
"I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections and the truth of imagination."
I know I am brave. I have the warmest blood. While others may take pride in what they learned from their mothers, I am satisfied to have taught myself. What does mother mean anyway? I created a character to play and then I built a life around the pretense. But isn’t that always the case? Some people are more obvious in their roles. Often acting so well they fool themselves. The light from the dancing flames gets all the glory. But the truth is, it is the embers in the deep, dark center of the fire which burn the brightest. Can you relate the underdog to the heavyweight? Success is measured by the displacement not the travel time. You can come up from nothing and rub shoulders with the elite. But can you accept you’ll still be compared to those who were born halfway there? This phoenix rises from her position lying prostrate in the ashes. Does that make me less worthy of love and accolades? On the contrary, I am the one offering a hand to the woman standing upright from her seated position in a chair.
Because whether from the bottom, the middle, or the top, we all deserve to rise.