The other day on my walk, I saw a male cardinal fly back and forth to a side mirror on an automobile. I could imagine his inner dialogue: Who is that other cardinal who is invading my territory? I will scare him away by attacking him! Hey, he is still there! Get out of my territory, you interloper. Stay away from my nest. Go on! Get away. Hey, you’re still there. I’ll show you who’s boss!
Sadly, the drama continued as I walked on. But every once in a while, he sat proudly on top, as if he was satisfied that the foe had been vanquished.
We never do that, do we? Imagine that the enemy is out there, and we’d better keep our guard up–only to discover that the enemy is ourselves? Or that, in fact, we are the only ones in the arena of our lives? Maybe it doesn’t matter what we think the other folks are doing–maybe competition is like that mirror–there is no one here but us.