Last.Damn.Call

Why do we feel the need to compare our lives to others? Whether it be our health, wealth, faith, kids, relationships…whatever it may be. For me, personally…the constant nagging thoughts that someone else is doing something better than me? Being stronger or smarter or having it easier than me? All those moms looking like the cover of Vogue at the baseball games whereas I look like I just ran a few dozen bases myself-all haggard and sweaty. The co-worker with the neat desk where mine looks like I took a leaf blower to it.

I had a younger woman tell me recently how she had admired my running (years ago….before I took up slogging–slow-jogging). Really?! Wow! This was after I passed her on a jog (I was on foot as well, but let’s not go so far as to call it running–remember, slogging:) She sent me a message saying how she’d gotten into running and had seen me doing it and whatnot, and seriously, it made my whole day! Maybe even week.

Oh, but what does sweet little Lindsey do? Brain enters self-destruct mode ASAP. As stupidity snowballed, as it often does, here’s where my brain went: She has such a nice, neat braid when she runs. Why have I never learned how to braid? She looks so young and happy! I wish I looked at ease like that instead of huffing along like a hot-mess express train. WHY? Why do I do this? Belittle myself over a mother flippin’ compliment of all things?! Blow the damn whistle already or better yet, an air horn. Stop doing this if you haven’t already. Someone out there is admiring you–yes, YOU. Believe it or not.

Little, seemingly tiny things–people notice those things. They do. That dad who drops his kid off at school every morning. The grandmother with the grandkids at the park. The elderly man singing in the choir. The kid that holds her mom’s hand walking down the street. The teenager mowing the neighbor’s lawn. The cashier at the gas station that always has a wrinkled shirt but a big smile. Those little things. The small moments.

These are not earth moving, death-defying, record-breaking feats that we notice. It’s everyday people doing everyday things. And little things are worth noticing. Stop comparing. Take pride in whatever you do and whoever you are. Comparison is the thief of joy.

We cannot be all the things that we see and admire about others. “Do yourself a favor and never compare yourself to others because comparison swallows your God given gifts.” (Euginia Herlihy)

I cannot sing. This is a known fact. So, I leave it to those who can. It is not one of the gifts I was blessed with. Leave it at that. But I can speak to a group of people. That’s something God has blessed me with. I may not be great at it, but I love to do it. I love to write and admit things I struggle with in hopes it might help someone else along the way.

“Stop thinking you’re doing it all wrong. Your path doesn’t look like anybody else’s because it can’t, it shouldn’t, and it won’t.” (Eleanor Brownn) When I was lost in my drinking, I SO admired people who didn’t share that struggle. On repeat, I told myself how weak and incompetent I was. Digging myself into a grave of isolation and self-pity. I cannot tell you how many times I dreamed of solving this ONE problem. Life would be so much easier–and it worked. To some extent. I am still me–doubts and all. But so, so, so much more clear-headed and resilient. I still venture down the “oh, woe is me path” but without alcohol, I can find my way back a lot easier.

“Personality begins where comparison leaves off. Be unique. Be memorable. Be confident. Be proud.” (Shannon L. Alder) Try to keep in mind that someone out there probably admires something about you. Your kindness. Your smile. Your faith. Your outlook on life. We all have gifts and talents, but not all of them look and feel the same. Something you may find insignificant may feel like a huge thing to someone else.

As I write this, I can count four baskets of clean laundry staring at me just begging to be folded. FOUR. Yes, really. But someone else is looking at four baskets of dirty laundry wishing they had a washer and dryer, so they didn’t have to go to the laundry mat. And the free time needed to do so. Perspective. Does this make me lazy? Maybe. Don’t care. I am writing and doing something that makes me happy. Will I start folding when I am done? Probably not. Is an organized, more responsible mom somewhere properly folding and putting away clothes? Yep. But not this gal. Not today. And I refuse to compare or feel “less than” because of it. Stop comparing, and start living:) Comparison is the thief of joy.