I rarely think about envy, but I feel it, often. I think I consider it in the realm of childish feelings that shouldn't apply anymore. Envy is right up there with being afraid of the dark- haven't I grown out of that by now?

We were discussing envy yesterday at our love group gathering. Lisa was sharing how easy it is to give in to envy, especially when we should be celebrating another person's "TaDa!" moments.

TaDa! moments are those moments when you are front and center. Something wonderful has happened to you, and everyone knows about it, and for awhile, you are basking in the bright sunshine of positive attention, and lots of it. Having a TaDa! moment is a glorious feeling. Sharing in someone else's moment? Not always so glorious.

No matter how old we get, we never quite outgrow that little green monster. And I think he's even harder to avoid these days, when our online connections seem to be constantly streaming other people's TaDa! moments right into our homes.  And sometimes it's easy to celebrate with our friends and family. Especially if their special moment involves something we don't want, or already have.

It's a bit harder to put on your party hat when someone else gets something you DO want and you DON'T have. Here are a couple of scenarios that might sound familiar:

1. Money is tight, and you've been "doing without" for awhile, and your friend just uploaded pictures from his two week long vacation in the South of France. And even though you don't like French food, it tastes a lot better than the Ramen noodles you've been living off of lately.

2. You haven't had a (good) date in over a year. There doesn't seem to be a decent guy left on the North American continent, and if there is one, he's either taken or you already met him and wrecked it. 

And just when it can't get any desolate, your (much) younger sister calls to tell you she's engaged, so apparently there was one decent guy, but she's already got him.

3.  That position at work that you don't want, you REALLY want, is available, and your boss has indicated it's all but yours, until he gives it to your co-worker.

TADA!!!

Isn't just soooooo easy to celebrate with your dear friendlies and family?!

And by the way, in one form or another, I've experienced every one of those situations, and, of course, handled them with perfect grace and a loving spirit. yep, sure did.

So what do we do? Is the simplest solution just to slap on your extra-excited-for-you grin and hope it covers the green noxious smoke coming out of your ears?

This was our discussion yesterday, when sweet Stephanie shared a story about her twin brothers:

When they were little, as is often the ancient curse of twins, they would occasionally be given a gift to "share." And even if it was something really, really, really cool, there was always the issue of who actually got to open it. And as anyone who has been on the receiving end of a gift knows, the actual unwrapping of the gift can sometimes be the best part (sorry, anyone who's ever given an "As Seen On TV" item as a present).

So there it was, Christmas, and once again the twins were in the awkward position of bartering for who got to open the shared gifts. It was getting a bit sticky until one of the brothers came up with a brilliant problem solver and said, "Brother, why don't you open it, and I'll jump for joy?!"

What a perfectly perfect solution.

None of us get to open all of the gifts all of the time. And none of us will ever get everything on our wish list. And we only have a certain amount of socially acceptable reactions when someone else gets exactly what WE wanted.

And yes, faking happiness while secretly hating your source of envy is a possible reaction. But it's also draining and a drag.

I need to learn to jump for joy. Always. No matter how much I want someone else's TaDa! moment. I need to learn to be just as excited when someone else opens a present as when I open one. 

Isn't the whole point of a TaDa! moment, and what makes it so special, is that you get to feel joy? Imagine feeling it without ever opening the present yourself.

Sign me up for summa that (said with sassy twang and a finger snap).