c. 2007 Religion News Service

(UNDATED) When I was a Jesuit novice, I started to complain to my novice director. Everyone else in my Jesuit community seemed to have it easier than I did. Their prayer seemed easier, they seemed to have fewer family problems, and they seemed more certain about their futures.

My novice director just chuckled. “Compare and despair,” he said. Then he repeated it. When I looked flummoxed, he explained what he meant.

If you always compare yourself with others, he said, you’re bound to make yourself unhappy. Because when we look at other people’s lives, we tend to see only the good things. Or we downplay the bad things in their lives and highlight the good things. Then we compare the rosy picture of their lives with the reality of our own. So, in comparison, our lives always seem worse. As a result, we become dissatisfied, and are slowly led into despair.

So, compare and despair.

Why do we do this?

For one thing, many people keep the painful parts of their lives hidden, or may be embarrassed by them, or may simply not want to talk about them.

So you know that person at work who leads what seems like the perfect life? Well, you may not know that he is caring for a sick parent. Or that his child is struggling at school. Or that he is having financial problems. Or marital problems. Because he may not want to talk about that at work. Not surprisingly, he might want to leave his troubles at home. Or he might feel that complaining might bother his co-workers.

So all you see is the cheerful face that he puts on during work hours. You assume that all is well. And you assume that his life is somehow “better” than yours.

Added to this is the fact that the good in our own lives often starts to seem mundane. We can easily lose our ability to be grateful for something that is a daily occurrence. So the fact that you have a roof over your head and have a decent job? Those things begin to seem typical, expected, unsurprising. We start to take them for granted.

The combination of these factors makes us think that our lives are not as good as the other person’s, and we are led into a constant state of striving to become someone else. This is the basis for most advertising. If only you had a better car, your life would be better. If only you only had a bigger house. All this really means: If only you were someone else you would be happy.

Overall, we harbor unrealistic fantasies about what other lives are really like.

A few years ago, I was invited to work as a “theological adviser” to a new off-Broadway play about Jesus and Judas, called “The Last Days of Judas Iscariot.” Directed by an Oscar-winning actor and starring some well-known actors and actresses, the play would be produced at New York’s famed Public Theater.

When I began working with the talented cast, I assumed that any actor who had made it to the New York stage would be leading a charmed life. But over time I realized that their lives _ like anyone’s _ were a full measure of joys and sorrows. They enjoyed their work immensely, but they had to work very hard,deal with frustrations, and face the same fears that everyone faces. It was another reminder of the need to recognize everyone’s humanity, and to be realistic about the challenges that life gives to all of us.

These days, when I see ads that say you have to change to be happy, I feel like shouting, “Compare and despair!” You don’t have to be somebody else to be happy, you just have to be who you are, and remember that your life is just as hard as the next person’s.

And just as beautiful, too.

(James Martin is a Jesuit priest and author of the new book, “A Jesuit Off-Broadway: Center Stage with Jesus, Judas and Life’s Big Questions” (Loyola Press).

DSB/LF END MARTIN660 words

A file photo of Martin is available via https://religionnews.com.