The Grass is Not Greener
If someone was asked to describe you in one word, what would they say? If you had to describe yourself in one word, what would that word be?
If you knew me when I lived in India, and you were asked to describe me in a word, I’m one hundred percent confident that content would not have been among them. Anxious, depressed, suicidal, unfulfilled, confused, and angry probably would have been more accurate descriptions at various points during our three years there, but content—not so much.
Because never did I have a more intense “the grass is greener elsewhere” complex than when I lived in India.
Pretty much daily I stood on my tip-toes at the proverbial fence longing for the other side (America) with all of it’s vivid shades of green.
America, the land of unlimited hot water, defined ministry roles, family support, you name it, America had it all. And most importantly, in America I’d be happy.
Or at least that’s what I told myself.
Every place I visited (inside and outside of India) was ten times more beautiful, exciting, and desirable than my reality. In Turkey and Thailand, I was jealous because their traffic moved in orderly patterns (no cows to dodge or cars driving the wrong direction honking wildly as they passed) and I would have the freedom and independence to drive myself wherever I liked. In Africa, I relished the beautiful landscapes and the exotic animals. And when I returned “home” I was greeted by the “welcome party from hell” and usually ended up slumped in a corner somewhere wondering why we were crazy enough to put ourselves through all of this.
When I was traveling I saw the highlight reels of the countries and cities I visited, the pretty tourist spots, the dolled-up-going-out face of the country; and in India I saw the just-rolled-out-of-bed-still-in-my-sweatpants-morning-breath face. And no matter how many times I told myself that those places had flaws, and if I lived there I would probably find it just as difficult as India, in my heart, I didn’t really believe myself. Because that’s what discontent does—it minimizes the flaws of what you don’t have and magnifies the flaws of what you do.
I stumbled across this quote the other day in Hal Donaldson’s new book, Your Next 24 Hours. He said,
“Often people are unhappy, unfulfilled, and chronically anxious because they believe the grass is greener elsewhere. They tell themselves life would be more fulfilling with a new relationship, different job, better apartment, or nicer car.” (p. 29)
When I read that statement I paused, because initially I thought it was an oversimplification of the root of anxiety. But the more I thought about it, the more it rang true.
Anxiety’s grip had the tightest stranglehold on me when I was in India. Which, not coincidentally, is when I was filled with the most discontent. Suddenly the correlation became clear. Every time I longed for what I didn’t have it slowly choked the joy and life out of everything I did have, leaving ugly things in its wake, like anxiety, anger, and fear.
Discontent was the root of my anxiety (and rats, but that’s a whole other story).
So often we think, “If I just had her husband, my life would be so much better.” Or, “If I only had 100,000 people reading my blog, then I’d be fulfilled.” Or, “If only God answered my prayers the way he answers hers.” Or, “If I just had his job, money, family, success, (insert literally anything)…then I’d be happy.”
But it’s a lie.
You won’t be happy.
Because enough is never enough. Once we reach what we thought would be enough, there’s always a small part of us that still wants to strive for more. Unless…we choose to prayerfully define enough for ourselves and spend our time practicing gratitude and appreciation for what we do have. That’s pretty much the recipe to banish discontentment.
Towards the end of our time in India, I began to look forward to guests that would visit and be captivated by India, because seeing the country through their eyes reminded me that there were indeed things to love about my home. Some really cool things, actually, that my Eeyore complex had blinded me to. I could see them if I chose to. But I had to choose to see--daily. Sometimes minute by minute. You can too. Choose today to see your life through the eyes of appreciation instead of the eyes of discontent and comparison.
~Gut-Check and Action Steps~
Think about the areas of your life where you’re prone to jealousy and comparison. Prayerfully define “enough” for yourself in those areas.
Make a list of things to love about your life—enlist the help of a friend if you find it difficult.
Switch off advertisements that fill you with the desire for more of what you don’t have.
If you struggle with discontentment, consider going on a social media fast and limit or stop your use for a set amount of time and spend that time asking God to give you fresh eyes of appreciation for your life.
If you struggle with anxiety, can you see where discontent has played a role in it? What steps can you take today to change that?