Never enough

Why is comparison so seductive?

How is it that judging myself based on those I see around me makes so much sense, like the orbit of the earth around the sun or the ungodly nature of buying indulgences? A suggestion so strong that it cannot be denied, no matter how deep the cry against it originates...

I compare relentlessly. I like comparing so much that I compare myself to myself, both past and future. Mr. Brent Thompson the present doesn't stand a chance vs. Mr. Brent Thompson the future. Man, is he spectacular or what!!! Fortunately for Mr. Brent Thompson the present, he has Mr. Brent Thompson the past to beat up on. Sure, Mr. Brent Thompson the past can take a couple rounds from Mr. Brent Thompson the present, but if the fight goes the distance, fuhgeddaboutit. And so it goes.

And this is only myself! Imagine the 4 second knockouts I can deliver against those out there in the real world who are simply less talented than me, less intelligent, less pretty, less rich, less funny, less skilled, less educated, less well-spoken, less humble (?!)...

But wow, can I take a beating too. It's always a mystery how in one battle I can stand toe to toe with someone and feel like the fight never has to end, the punishment of their blows like that of a gnat, scant and hollow; yet in the next, my jaw turns to glass and I crumple beneath the breeze of their first swing. In the sport of comparison, looking up at the lights with your back on the mat is as death: counted out and no hope of redemption.

That brings me back to seduction...
There are things in life that you know that you know that you know you should never do, yet do them you do. Engaging myself in the sport of comparison is one of those things for me. I get out, and jump back in again. It's compulsive. It's obsessive. It's easy..... and it hurts. Everytime.

Maybe it's your soul. Perhaps I blew you away with my knowledge of the Scriptures or my crossover dribble and left you disfigured. Maybe it's my soul. Devestated because I just could not compete with his musicianship or her ability to accomplish so much in one day. Maybe it's both. Maybe it's all of us. Maybe.

Defeat or victory is immaterial with comparison. The ultimate result is always the same: the maiming of a soul.
In victory, I think of myself more highly than I ought, putting aside all sober judgement. In defeat, I rob myself of hope and neglect the presence of an unfinished work to be brought to completion on that day to come...

What a diverse tool for deception! The same instrument can find me basking in the joy of being better than while concurrently slinking away to avoid the slavery of my substandard abilities! Remarkable.

I wish I didn't do it.
I hope I can stop.
I know it's bad for me.
If only I could be more disciplined, like Billy is. I know Billy doesn't struggle with it like I do.
Yeah, that would fix everything.