On Comparing.

You would sort of have to be a twin to understand the level of comparison with which a human can grow accustomed. From the moment you leave the womb- comparing. Who's older? Fraternal or identical? Do they look just alike? Who got their first tooth quickest? Who is better at math (rude... Kristin.)? Who has a boyfriend? Which got asked to prom first? Who is going to which school? Who wore the red dress the best (again... rude... Kristin, okay?!). Anyway, you get my drift. You muggles (does that work here? People are always calling me that so I thought I would dish it out) think the comparison ends with the clothes placed on our infant bodies, but you are wrong. Its a lifetime of comparing, I tell you. Its not always good, its not always bad... its just always is.

You may imagine there were some antics in the Kirker house upon realizing "the comparing" was a game we weren't getting out of any time soon. We may as well letter in it, right?

There was this unspoken comparing game that we were both masters of from ages 6 to 15. If ever a sister had some truly enviable morsel of food, she would take her time eating it much more slowly than necessary. The reason for this was simply leverage. Leverage, you ask? Yes. Leverage. If you're hanging out with a sister who has just read enough books (through Book It) to earn a Personal Pan Pizza from Pizza Hut, you bet your bottom dollar you're going to ask for a piece. That sister has the upper hand and, thus, negotiations, regarding Barbies, begins. Oh, a road trip with delicious Skittles, you ask? Duh. Of course. Bottom line, we were always trying to be the one with yummy treats.

Treats were to little Kirkers what cigarettes are for inmates- currency.

WHY? Why did I want Kristin to accidentally slip and eat her Happy Meal at a normal pace so that I could wave my pitiful overcooked french fry stubs in her face? Because I was a jerk? Probably. Also? Because we were constantly comparing.

It got me thinking about the balance of my life and the role that comparing plays. As a master comparer, I can assure you there are opportunities on every (EVERY) corner. Some comparing can happen internally and can be quite fun (ie: losing weight, reaching any goal, playing "can I clean the bathroom in 4 minutes", working up the nerve to talk to the insanely hot guy at Harris Teeter, etc.) Other comparisons can be not so fun (ie. Playing "Is every human married?", indulging in "I'm better" nonsense, noticing houses, jobs and bodies of friends and going through the mental comparison checklist. boo.) It happens, y'all.

For me, comparing almost always leads to criticism.

This quote seemed especially poignant to me today. Peep this:

Yes, Mr. Brown. Good call. The comparison game is rubbish. I need to be so focused on loving life and refining/improving that I simply don't have time to compare/ criticize/ judge/ not show love.

What would it look like if I actually did that? Probably a lot less wasted energy playing a game I can't win, I know that.

Today when I called Kristin to remember our utter silliness (we do this a lot... usually through Facetime), we both laughed hysterically that we ever lorded food over each other. I mean, shouldn't it have been precious metals or something? Anyway, Kris, I invite you to share a Chick-Fil-A meal with me and I will let you have all my fries.

Yeah right.

xo

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
My dear and darling life friend Amanda asked me to take part in the Gathered Thoughts link party at LoveFeast Table. What an honor. I would like to thank her for the opportunity as well as the motivation to come out of blog hibernation. While we're at it: countless laughs and shared lives. xo.