How I do hate contests!

There must be interesting, enjoyable people left in this world - no self absorption, health obsessions and the like - the sort of whom I knew a few in my younger days, and still keep hoping to meet now. Yet, the more I observe, the more I realise that my relative solitude probably has more advantages than enhancing my prayer life. I walk anywhere that I can, but otherwise use public transit, and one overhears much (however unintentionally) on buses and trains, or on platforms. This, coupled with my extensive experience with volunteering, churches, and the like, leads me to believe that I'm actually not missing much - except aggravation. (Yes, the wryness tag is on in this post - but I doubt I'm far from the truth.)

Many women seem to never have evolved past, I assume, the days of Neanderthal man, when survival must have depended on being the one to attract the male and being dragged off by the hair. (Please note that I said 'many,' by no means 'all.' As well, though most of my truly close friends throughout my life have been men, I am not suggesting men are incapable of indulging in unhealthy, artificial competitions. I cannot comment on those because I cannot know what men discuss when only other men are present.) The competition extends to all areas. Any good word heard about another requires a 'put down' of some sort.

This past week, I was in the 'couldn't help but overhear' position, and heard the chattering of three teen-aged girls. (I'm sorry to say they weren't giggling, sharing pleasant anecdotes, or talking about boys.) Apparently they were discussing results of some sort of standardised test. One of the girls, who seemed quieter than the others, mentioned that she'd feared the outcome, but ended up getting a 97 percentile. Immediately, a second, who had a somewhat haughty tone, replied, "That's very nice... I was a 99." The third (who surely deserves applause for accomplishing what is impossible - there is no such thing as a '100 percentile' on such tests) had to throw in, "In my case, they had to give me a hundred because it was the first time ever that anyone had a completely perfect score." How charming. Perhaps she can spend the next week creating another cosmos, since this one is surely defective...

I assuredly am not disapproving of tests, exams, awards and the like - unless, of course, they are in the hands of teachers such as a few I had, who love to tear down the best students by giving them poor grades because the students who accomplished less 'must have worked harder.' (Talent, intelligence, and so forth indeed may be things to which one is naturally inclined, but since when is knowledge infused? Yet I myself have memories of poor grades, not because of lack of ability or effort, but because, for example, rehearsing an oral presentation until one knows it backwards and forwards will make some teachers assume that speaking without note cards means one made up the talk on the spot...) The contest I loathe is that, once one student mentioned a score, the others had to top her.

Such approaches have endless variations. I knew a (very) few wealthy people in my day - if Anne's house is more beautiful than Jane's, Jane has to apply for an award for being more frugal. If an artist has a painting chosen for the national gallery, those hearing of this will comment disparagingly about how 'it must be nice to have time to paint.' I'm sure you all get the picture. Lest anyone think me sexist, Cain and Abel did a good job of illustrating the point in Genesis.

For those with the traits I have described, any good in others has to be dismissed in a disparaging fashion - as if it were an insult to one's self.

I think I know what I'll do for lectio divina this weekend. I can re-read James Alison's brilliant treatment of original sin - as envy and scapegoating - and how envy is a form of idolatry.