Comparing the contrast

Children are the chorus at this mountain lake: a swimming pool with boats, a raked beach without salt or waves. It is easy to revert to what I know: heat, clean sand and waves - when in a foreign land. But if this be my home now, then this is what is mine to know. Memories are not how things should be; this is how things should be.

Comparison. I find myself falling into it often, and what I notice often follows is some form of stress: anger, frustration, resentment. What is to compare? This is this and that is that. That is all.

When I look at it, I notice that the only reason I compare is to be better than, even if it’s to be better than you at being worse than you, a better victim. It is one way I choose to remain separate: comparison requires an other, this to be separate from that – and therefore somehow comparable.

Comparison is competition, and all competition requires a loser.

There is no comparison. It is all this, and I can’t compare this to this: it is all the same. Beach, no beach; waves, no waves; hot or just a bit warm: it is no different. It is just this. Pure, simple, this.

No comparison, no competition. Winning without a loser.