Comparison is the Thief of Joy
“Comparison is the thief of joy.”
-attributed to Theodore Roosevelt
This quote is one of my favorites to live by and something I remind myself and others of often. I regularly see people wishing to be like someone else, looking past the realities and possibilities of their own lives in favor of romanticized goals that will somehow reflect their spirit better than their actions reflect now.
The truth is that every person’s success indicates a tradeoff of things they have given up to achieve that particular success. For example, someone with a busy, high-achieving career might be giving up leisure time or quality in their relationships. Another person with the perfect family likely sacrificed some of their personal dreams. It’s not impossible to ‘have it all,’ but to truly achieve all the outward markers of modern success, the sacrifice might very well be a sense of inner peace and contentment.
When I look at people who have what I don’t, I instead see their sacrifices and feel gratitude that I have not experienced them. This doesn’t mean the sacrifices are all bad, only that they would not suit me. For example, some of the choices I’ve made so that I may live the life I’m in now (like not having children) would be unthinkable to others, but don’t feel like sacrifice to me.
Our goal as Dirtbag Daoists is to live with intentionality and purpose- to know what our priorities are in life and see them through. How can we compare ourselves to others when we all have different priorities? Even if two people have one of the same life goals, there are many other aspects of life that will differ between them and affect how and when they might reach their common dream.
Though I might admire someone’s achievements, I do not envy them because I would not want to give up the choices I have made. A person’s accomplishments do not exist in a vacuum, but are a product of their entire life. To desire something that someone else has attained is to desire everything they’ve been through to get it, the good and the bad.
If you envy someone’s technical skill, you must envy the long hours they spent honing it. If you envy someone's material goods, you must envy the time they traded to pay for them. If you envy someone’s physique, you must envy the strict lifestyle regime they follow, and so on.
If you do find yourself constantly wishing for someone else’s life, it doesn’t automatically mean their life is better. It might mean you’re not living in tune with your own values. In this way, how much you are comparing yourself to others is a good indicator of whether you know what you want and how to get it.
Even if you could see the whole story of other people’s lives and the compromises they have made, comparison would still play tricks on you. It’s an endlessly hungry beast, lusting after the ‘better’ versions of yourself and your desires, but never satisfied.
The Stonecutter
A parable that reveals this empty illusion of higher status is The Stonecutter. Potentially Japanese or Chinese in origin, though popularized by European writers, this story shows the relativity of power and success:
There was once a stonecutter who was dissatisfied with himself and with his position in life.
One day he passed a wealthy merchant’s house. Through the open gateway, he saw many fine possessions and important visitors. “How powerful that merchant must be!” thought the stonecutter. He became very envious and wished that he could be like the merchant.
To his great surprise, he suddenly became the merchant, enjoying more luxuries and power than he had ever imagined, but envied and detested by those less wealthy than himself. Soon a high official passed by, carried in a sedan chair, accompanied by attendants and escorted by soldiers beating gongs. Everyone, no matter how wealthy, had to bow low before the procession. “How powerful that official is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a high official!”
Then he became the high official, carried everywhere in his embroidered sedan chair, feared and hated by the people all around. It was a hot summer day, so the official felt very uncomfortable in the sticky sedan chair. He looked up at the sun. It shone proudly in the sky, unaffected by his presence. “How powerful the sun is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be the sun!”
Then he became the sun, shining fiercely down on everyone, scorching the fields, cursed by the farmers and laborers. But a huge black cloud moved between him and the earth, so that his light could no longer shine on everything below. “How powerful that storm cloud is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a cloud!”
Then he became the cloud, flooding the fields and villages, shouted at by everyone. But soon he found that he was being pushed away by some great force, and realized that it was the wind. “How powerful it is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be the wind!”
Then he became the wind, blowing tiles off the roofs of houses, uprooting trees, feared and hated by all below him. But after a while, he ran up against something that would not move, no matter how forcefully he blew against it – a huge, towering rock. “How powerful that rock is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a rock!”
Then he became the rock, more powerful than anything else on earth. But as he stood there, he heard the sound of a hammer pounding a chisel into the hard surface, and felt himself being changed. “What could be more powerful than I, the rock?” he thought.
He looked down and saw far below him the figure of a stonecutter.
When you treat life like a ladder, you automatically see people as above or below you. And suddenly, comparison becomes a trap: someone’s always ahead, someone’s always behind.
The reality is that our desires are cyclical. We want what we don’t have, chase it, get it, and then find something new to long for. The roles change- merchant, official, sun, cloud- but the wanting stays the same. Like the stonecutter, we keep orbiting the same question: What would make me feel enough? And the answer keeps shifting, just out of reach.
Taking Back Your Joy
If you’re grounded in your own priorities, comparison fades. You can appreciate someone else's path without needing to walk it. If you feel comparisons creep in, ask yourself: do I really want their life, or do I just want to stop doubting mine?
Every drop of envy empties from our own well of contentment.
A sure antidote to comparison is to turn it around and use it for good. I wrote about the practice of voluntary discomfort, choosing to deprive yourself for the sake of appreciating how good you have it otherwise. This doesn’t have to be a physical practice, as the mental exercise of thinking about those worse off than you can boost your own happiness. A nicer way of putting this is to say that you’re practicing gratitude for what you have in your life.
No matter what the circumstances, there is always something in life to be joyful about. If we lower our expectations for what we can and should be grateful for, our bounty grows.
As life becomes harder and more threatening, it also becomes richer, because the fewer expectations we have, the more good things of life become unexpected gifts that we accept with gratitude.
That’s a quote from Etty Hillesum, a young Dutch Jewish woman who supported and uplifted those being sent to concentration camps in 1943. She wrote of finding beauty and peace in the sky above and on the train to her known death in Auschwitz, she sang.
Once we stop chasing what could be, without fully understanding the path there, we start to see the possibilities and wonder in front of us, not in spite of the limitations, but sometimes because of them. The fewer expectations we place on what life should look like, the more space we create for joy in what it actually is.
How lucky we are to simply breathe.
To simply be.
What can compare to that?
