Comparison and "living the dream"

Teddy Roosevelt said that comparison is the thief of joy. My cousin Amelia posted a quote recently about how comparison is an act of violence against yourself. I've thought about these quotes a lot, and even more so after a recent Sunday school lesson.

Brother Coop started the class discussing the phrase "living the dream." Apparently one of his friends always answers that way when someone asks how he's doing. So the teacher asked how it would make us feel if someone we knew always answered that they were "living the dream."

Most of the respondents said that they would be very happy for that person and it would make them happier to know that someone, somewhere was "living the dream." I could appreciate where these people were coming from, and it was nice hearing people say (in what I can only assume to be complete sincerity) that they would be genuinely happy for the other person. One brother, however, responded in a way that echoed the other half of what I was feeling: he would be annoyed and would find it depressing if that's how they responded every time.

On the mission, gossip spread more quickly than it ever did in a girls locker room - which is saying something. As a missionary you have companions and investigators who try your patience, make mistakes, don't have strong family support, who struggle with testimony, the language and other insecurities. I never wanted to be the source of the next ripe and roarin' tidbit, so I reached the point whenever another missionary would ask me how I was doing I would respond, "Masaya pa rin." Happy still.

One day at the temple, Sister Thompson had had enough. "How are you? -- And don't you dare say you're still happy!!!" She made direct reference to my companion at the time and said that she'd heard just how tough that sister could be to work with. If she had been a different sister, one whom I knew would keep to herself anything I might say in confidence, I may have opened up. However, I knew that would not be the case, and I couldn't see how tsismis-ing all about my companion would improve anything. And besides that, I cared about my companion and her reputation - she was a great missionary.

So I responded, "Talaga sister, masaya pa rin ako." Really sister, I'm still happy.

I know my response was frustrating.

(I think about this interaction sometimes and wonder how this same sister would feel on Facebook or Twitter. Most status messages and tweets are just different ways of saying how cool, awesome, and full people's lives are. Would she post as hers, "don't you dare say you're still happy!"? That would be a hilarious status. I hope someone uses it sometime.)

But back to the comparison game. I think my response in the mission field and the statuses/tweets and the idea of "living the dream" only bother us because each of us knows that life is hard, that bad things happen and bad decisions are made every day. And sometimes the same person, institution, decision, or situation that brought us pain, brought something good into someone else's life.

For example, I am bitter at BYU. I know many (if not most) BYU alumni will tell you the exact opposite, for them it was a joy and they look forward to revisiting old stomping-grounds. Not so for me.

Aside from other ancillaries, some years back BYU dropped my dad from being a full-time professor to part-time. This meant, among other things, he lost his health benefits. Two weeks before, he had been diagnosed with rapidly-progressing cancer. BYU left my dad without insurance and with a pre-existing condition that kept him from getting insurance for months. The medical bills piled up. That semester when I visited my parents, the pantry was near-empty, as was the fridge. December, we exchanged Christmas cards instead of Christmas gifts.

Thus, when the "Choose to Give" people call or when people say that BYU is the "Lord's University," it takes something inside me to hold back from saying rash, unkind things. My parents are still paying off medical bills. Most people don't carry my same baggage and rightfully so. Their experience was different, and I find no need to blight their thoughts about their alma mater. (Though I am posting this on my blog . . . hmm.)

My dad, incidentally, does not share my bitterness.

Another example is parenting. For some reason the comparison game escalated once I had a baby. Parents can be so harsh on other parents. (Non-parents can also be harsh on parents.) Are you getting your kid vaccinated? Are you breastfeeding? Did you birth naturally? Do you let your kid "cry it out" or do you suckle your baby to sleep? I have developed my own opinions on these topics and I made my decisions accordingly. However, I know other parents who are making right decisions for themselves and their babies, and their decisions are completely opposite of mine.

All this being said, if I were to compare my experience at BYU to my friend Andrea's or Rob's or Alyssa's, I could make myself pretty miserable. If I were to compare my "parenting strategy" (a phrase I dislike) against someone else's, I would only increase my already keyed-up parental anxiety. If I were to compare my life, house, family, income, and meals against the Facebook pics, tweets, Pinterest walls, and other outward ways that everyone shares what's good in their lives, I could also come out miserable. Comparison breeds misery, sarcasm, and bitterness. (At least it does in me.)

Comparison is like a thief. It robs us of happiness. It robs us of the ability to look back on past decisions without regret. When we compare, we distinguish who is superior or inferior to someone else, when what we really are is equal.