Again, I have chosen a story that utilizes a method that I have found particularly helpful in my practice. The method, which was taught at the 2012 KPY retreat, basically takes 2 objects and compares them as follows:

• A is Better than B
• B is Better than A
• A and B are essentially the same
• A and B are so different from each other they are not worth comparing

Back in the day, I liked this method as a quick fix –something that really forced me to shift my perspective in a hurry, something to take the edge off of a bloated sense of self. Without further ado, here is the story:

I was on my way home and my husband called to tell me that our friends Sandy and Blake were at our house, unexpectedly, to borrow  something. As soon as I hung-up the phone I started feeling uneasy –I really didn’t feel like seeing those guys at all. I was already edgy about Sandy and Blake from their mooching (see the last blog). Plus, at the time, I couldn’t quite put my finger on why (don’t worry, this will be the topic of a future blog), but even though I loved Sandy, she could really get under my skin — the things she said and did annoyed me. A lot. Often. I simply wasn’t in the mood that day.

I pull over the car, to stall, but also to contemplate a bit. To try to do something to set my heart at ease enough that I wasn’t being mean to everyone as soon as I stepped foot in the door. Here is what I thought:

Alana is Better than Sandy: Well Duh. Of course I’m better in all ways…but more specifically, I am smarter, more responsible, prettier, I dress better, I actually have a job,  I had better grades in school, I am richer, more generous, more articulate, I don’t mooch,  I am more considerate, more conscientious,  more physically fit, I plan ahead, am more calculated, more cautious, more compassionate,  people just like me better (some people anyway…).

Sandy Is Better than Alana: Sandy is more fun, more care free, skinnier, easier going, has more friends, more adventurous, more outgoing, more open to new things and new people, more outdoorsy, more tolerant of change, Sandy goes with the flow, is less of a worrier, more of a caregiver, Sandy cooks, she is crafty, good with her hands, good with kids, good in new situations, gives her husband more freedom, people just like her better (some people anyway…)

Sandy and Alana are Basically the Same: Honestly, we are both 30 something white women living in SF.  We grew up with rich daddies and married young. We  are both college educated, have masters degrees, we like the same music, the same food, the same hangouts, the same activities, we have the same set of friends. We both like to play dress-up and peacock around. We both try to find jobs that make us seem important, busy enough, but not sooo busy or sooo important as to be stressful. We both bask in our sense of self awesome, open-minded, new agey hippy crap. We love to jump on trends that reinforce our hip sense of our hip selves. We spend every Friday night, almost every free moment, together, doing the same things. If she weren’t blond and I weren’t brunette –would anyone even notice if you switched one of us out for the other? In those critical ways that make up our everyday identity we are basically the same. Why quibble over who is better or worse?

Sandy and Alana are so Different from Each Other We are Not Worth Comparing:  Sandy and I each have our own families, husbands, jobs and responsibilities. We manage each of these according to the rules, the norms, that we believe are appropriate, based on our own experiences and beliefs. We each have our own dreams, our own aspirations for the future. What success means to me is different than what it means to Sandy. What makes me happy, satisfied, anxious or angry are totally different than the things that evoke those responses in Sandy. Ultimately, my karma and Sandy’s are totally different from each other, so what is the point in comparing tomatoes to potatoes, they aren’t the same vegetable at all.

When I started the car again, it was with a profound sense of relief. Relief from the burden of needing to return home and keep vigilant watch, to note each of Sandy’s words or actions as evidence in my case against her and in favor of me. Overtime, my annoyance crept back…it wasn’t for quite a while longer till I started finding the deeper causes of my unrest with Sandy and could start killing them at their root.

Warning, this is another current day addition…looks like I just can’t help myself: I have used this method several times over the course of my practice with some very epic issues. Watching the pattern, I can look behind the curtain a bit and see where the profound power of this exercise lies:  it uses a sneaky trick of my mind — the way in which I use comparisons to define the world — against myself. This exercise forces me to face the fact that it is my perspective, informed by all of my past experiences, biases and beliefs, that colors my ‘reality’ — Alana is better than Sandy. In truth however, there are always 2 sides, Sandy is also better than Alana in certain ways, at certain times, and according to certain people.

Deeper still, is that if I am able to see both sides, to minimize the bias for self, I can start to see that these comparisons I use to prop-up myself, the things I love and believe in, are hollow; ultimately, things, people, are so similar — made of the same elements, the same aggregates, arising and ceasing, having virtues and flaws, for people having hopes and disappointments, etc.  This exercise has helped bring me way more humility because it shows me my own unexceptionalism.

Deepest of all, no two things are the same. In fact no one thing is the same from one moment to the next. For Sandy and I, we each have our own unique causes, karma, factors, directions and ultimately cessations. We are comparable only in my mind, only in select aspects, only for a very short time, only to serve my own agenda. So where is the sense in comparing? In boosting my sense of self with ‘information’ that ultimately fails to see the impermanence of each of our arising and ceasing? In tethering my sense of self to someone else, to something else,  when in the end, that causes me to be the one who is bound, tied, imprisoned, not free.