The Eternal Morning

Rising before dawn is one of my most intimate joys. Sometimes those mornings seem eternal. The sunrise is a little slower. The coffee goes down just a tad more deliciously. The dog’s snoring a little more comforting. Every sound my 104-year old apartment makes is some sort of joyful, secret whisper. The world seems a little quieter outside. It’s mornings like that I feel hyper present, in tune with and touching every slight nuance of everything.

This entry's image was AI-generated.  

The Thievery of Joy

Comparison truly is the thief of joy.

Through an odd set of circumstances, this morning I found out the salary of an old friend of mine I haven't seen in years. Now I have a very comfortable salary, but he makes, literally, over three times what I make. That's an obscene amount of money!

I immediately started comparing myself to him.
"He probably has a great house, and here I am living in an apartment."
"He probably drives a brand new car."
"How could I possibly feel good about myself if we were in each other's company." and on and on it went for about five minutes as I sank deeper into a "flash despair" the kind that comes on quickly and hits you hard. Right in the gut. 

Then in as quick a flash, I realized I'd slipped into that comparison trap again. I quickly lifted myself out it. I reminded myself that all the material things in the world can't replace honest joy, the kind that can only come from the inside. Is my friend happy with his life? I sure hope so. Am I happy with mine? Absolutely. When I stop laying everyone else's template over myself is when I'm reminded that happiness and joy truly are very intimate, inside jobs.