Turning Green

A few decades back you would have guessed a story called 'Turning Green' was a tale of envy. These days it's more likely you're thinking this is a post about our love of the environment, our aversion of greenhouse gases or our infatuation with Al Gore. But it's envy I'm on about...

I realised sometime earlier this week that I've gone through a few streets of envy along my journey. Perhaps not the typical sort but, then again, they all tend to amount to the same root: I want something you've got.

When I was 18 and could see an international running career ahead of me, I got injured pretty bad. It was something that the medical population of Perth (and parts of Melbourne) couldn't figure out. It was referred pain into my right leg and it stopped me running for a long time. While there were good years of running in there, it's always been a case of managing pain since then. Interestingly, during these years of enforced non-running, I found myself walking past total strangers and thinking, 'you don't need a perfect right leg but I do'. I'd make imaginary exchanges with them. Say, my dodgy right leg for their sore wrist. I figured that unless they weren't running 140km a week they probably wouldn't find my leg that problematic and, hey, I was up for a pesky wrist.

Years later, I remember seeing couples arm in arm or in deep conversation and thinking, 'you don't know how fortunate you are'. 'You need to see yourselves through my eyes...then you'll really value what you've got'.

Over the last couple of weeks I've noticed time-rich people with a touch of envy. Seeing the same guy at 130s casually reading his book, or my neighbours taking their twins for long 2 hour walks and thinking 'I want that now...you lucky mongrels!'

Envy takes many shades of green. None of them particularly healthy because they're all pointing to discontent of some kind. I certainly don't write this with a sense of joy...envy is insidious and rarely leads to joy. If you're going to have these pangs of envy though, my thought is: let them go somewhere productive rather than somewhere nasty. Let them help you appreciate that you can walk (or use your wrists!), or be grateful for the fine friends you have around you. Or let them challenge you to remedy what you're missing. Better yet, let those feelings propel you to seeking satisfaction in all the right places.

Paul wrote to the Philippians:

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.

Perhaps I'm the only one around here that gets a little green every now and then. Or maybe I'm not alone.