Fill in the blank..

Green with ____.  Most people have no trouble finishing this sentence.

"Envy is the art of counting the other fellow's blessings instead of your own." Harold Coffin

I think we can agree that everyone has felt envy at one time or another. It's not pretty. Or healthy.  In this world of social media I think envy may be more prevalent than ever. We see SO MANY details of other people's lives. Mostly the great stuff that is happening for them.

It all seems to begin with comparison. So there I was, happily tra-la-laing along with my gizmo. Then I checked in on Facebook and saw that someone else has the newer, bigger, better, more expensive  model. I looked down at my gizmo and was not quite as satisfied.  The gizmo I loved just a few moments ago had suddenly fallen short.. So and So has the new model, and it's beautiful. Suddenly, out of nowhere, up pops that niggly, painful feeling..I want what THEY have! And just like that,  envy is born, with maybe a teeny tiny bit of resent thrown in. Ugly emotions both!

Comparison is a dead end street. There is no way we can be happy for others or content with our place in this world if we are always comparing.  Someone will ALWAYS have MORE than us. More money, be more beautiful, more fit, travel more..

To nip envy in the bud I need to be proactive. Figuring out the "triggers" that set off this negative feeling is top priority, then I can avoid getting into those situations. For example, we don't have to follow every single one of our "friends" on Facebook.

I have found that keeping a sufficiency journal where I list my blessings, and practicing the ole daily "attitude of gratitude" is what works best for me.

That..and staying off Facebook, lol!  ;)


Journal Journey Day 7

Chubby Club

Future members of the "Too Chubby To Ride Club" (TCTRC), met at 1 pm today at Zeb's. Our President, insisting that we refer to her by her Native American name "Many Horses Come This Way", brought the meeting to order.

The meeting was opened for discussion and oinky animals noises while perusing the menu. The first order of business was fried fat balls for all members, followed by deep fried lard rings and batter encased sea urchins. Treasurer, "P Dub", made a motion for salad and diet coke, which was strongly voted down. However, a vote for giant oily sandwiches, wine and the monstrous chili dog, passed unanimously.

The ceremonial pouring and re-pouring of wine from one glass to another was observed, with all members participating.

The meeting was officially adjourned when members, grease dribbling from their chins, had reached Jaba the Hut like proportions. Zeb's staff assisted by rolling members to their cars and stuffing them in.

Next month's TCTRC meeting is scheduled to be held at the nearest All-You-Can-Eat Buffet. Date and time to be announced.

"G"
Secretary

Like two ships passing...

It's the natural way of friendship I guess. People drift in and out of our lives like boats on the tide. Some resemble huge cabin cruisers as they go steaming past, full speed ahead. Others are more akin to little dories and dinghies that bob happily by, sharing the water for a time before heading off in another direction, on to new adventures in their lives.
Once or twice in a lifetime though, the winds may chance to breeze a resplendent little cattamaran into your life. With sails snapping in the wind, colorful flags flying and bullhorn booming: "Let the fun begin!" I am blessed to have a friend like this. She comes complete with a Caribbean steel drum band and rum punch. Let's christen her "The Dolphin".

"The Dolphin" and I have been anchored in the same small harbor together for more than a few years now. Drawn into friendship by the circumstances of our kid's activities and a mutual admiration of all things equine, we have had great fun sailing along on a similar course. Always there for each other with a hand to help, an encouraging word or an obnoxiously self-serving I-told-you-so, we have weathered some rough seas together.

Recently though, ever so slightly and without being aware of it, I have begun to list a few degrees starboard of my charted route. At first I didn't realize that I was off course, it looked like we were still heading toward the same spot on the horizon. Now I am conscious of an ever widening distance between us, as I unwillingly change direction.

I feel as if I somehow came unmoored in the night, caught up in my own personal riptide. Untethered from parenting, I seem somewhat rudderless, and I am for the moment, drifting in an unfamiliar direction. Pummeled by the hormonal tempest of my age-group, I am at the mercy of this fickle wind as it blows me into uncharted territory.

All the while, "The Dolphin" has been sailing steadily along behind me. The winds of mothering teenagers whirl around her, as she braves the storms of her parents ill-health. She needs all hands topside, a firm grasp on the wheel, and a sharp eye towards the rocky shoals. I've sailed these waters before. I want to run alongside, to call out a sounding that will help her avoid the craggy shoreline and the dangers of running aground or capsizing.

But I've drifted too far ahead. We are both battered by the wind and waves. As my storm intensifies, I call out one thing, she hears another. She yells back, but I can't understand her. As I am slowly spun out to sea, I am convinced that she can no longer hear me at all.

As this day draws to a close, the wind and waves have ceased and the water is like glass. I sit marooned and alone, no land in sight. I long to get back to familiar waters, but my sails are in tatters and my rudder is gone. The sharks of despair seem to make ever smaller circles towards my leaky, broken boat. I think our friendship may be sinking, but I am unwilling to abandon ship. I hope this isn't the end...

Wait. Do I hear Reggae? Could it possibly be? There, in the distance, motoring at top speed, sails full and flags whipping in the breeze, it's "The Dolphin" coming to the rescue of her sinking compatriot. As she makes ready to pull alongside, I am filled with delight as I hear a familiar voice shout, "Hey, do you have any olives? Quit teasing the sharks and get over here. Let's get this party started!"

Clown Fish and Rich Girls

Trying to join an existing “friend group” is a little like scuba diving, you have to constantly watch your perimeters. This is especially true, if the water you are entering is an established friendship of strong, beautiful, well-to-do women.

It’s like swimming with say... Manta Rays. It’s amazingly fascinating and fun, but it also has an element of danger. A school of Manta Ray is not aggressive per se, but when they go cruising by, swinging those long tails with the VERY sharp barbs on the end, it’s only a matter of time before you get hit.

That’s probably why I am somewhat of a loner. As much as I enjoy the company of other women, I don’t usually swim in a school. There is always an intricate hierarchy, too many dynamics already in place.

I usually feel like the clown fish, swimming in and out among the anemones, trying to avoid the stinging tentacles. It’s exhausting and not really all that worth it, because more often than not, I come away stung and tattered, with puncture wounds all over my dignity. Painful to say the least. It's enough to make me want to get out of the water.

Maybe I should just swim nearer the shore. Play in the waves with a few really good dolphin friends I have in my life. Not venture out too deep.

You never know what’s out there in the dark water… maybe something that bites.