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Wednesday, 21 September 2011

Comparison is the lover of Jealousy

Feeling down.
Why do I compare myself with others?  What am I trying to prove?
My self worth?
Is it 'competition' - which is the cousin of comparison?
Or that that something that has always shadowed me...a desire to please and be liked?
I think all of them answer my question.

If I cut open my arm and examined the flow of my blood... I'm sure fear would be the undercurrent.
Fear is what motivates me.
Fear is what de-motivates me.
It's like an invisible wind inside of me.  A wind that can't be glimpsed over the thrashing of the waves of thought and emotion it has stirred up.  I live it and breathe it and when I go to sleep it's still in my mind, in my dreams.  Almost every dream that I have is a nightmare, or provokes anxiety.  And it's been that way ever since I was a little girl.
Comparison is born of fear.  I fear that somehow my worth as a human being will be undermined by failing to meet certain standards.  I fear failure.  I fear loss.  I fear criticism.  I fear the unknown.
I fear rejection more than anything else.  I want to be everyone's best friend.  I want to be liked and praised.  I want to be perfect.

My pursuit of perfection means that I can't live a life from the soul.  Perpetual comparison, overwhelming yet almost imperceptible fear, stop me.  There can't be fear with love, and love comes from the soul.
I'm told that religion only exacerbates the pain of the pursuit of perfection.  What rubbish.  My spiritual beliefs have nothing to do with fear.  The way I was raised was - inheriting fear, letting it ripen and rot inside of me is the root.  Not religion.  Preachers may preach fire-and-brimstone lessons, but that  isn't the core of Christianity.  The core is love.  To love your neighbour as yourself.  "Love is patient, love is kind, love isn't jealous.  It doesn't sing it's own praises.  It isn't arrogant........."

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if children were raised with no influence whatsoever.  From anything.  From everything.  To form their own ideas, their own opinions.  To not adopt the essence of another person.  To not learn certain behaviours, and to not carry around in their minds the unconscious gall juiced from their parents and continuously swallowed in childhood.
I don't have children.  I want children.  But the thought of influencing them in such negative ways is horrific.  I could never be the perfect parent, the perfect mother.  But then...that is only the pursuit of perfection.  Maybe I should get my tubes tied.  Maybe I should shut up.  I don't know what to think.      

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