Marc Ian Barasch

With everything winking merrily, beckoning with come-ons for instant gratification, and mirrors, mirrors everywhere (it is all about me, after all!), I go into a sort of mall trance. The mind itself gets into the spirit of things, hawking its tawdrier wares; my finicky responses to the goods on display merge with my reactions to the people I pass —little covetous twinges, subtle flickers of attitude, petty judgments on how people walk, talk, dress, and chew gum. And here a surge of superiority, there a deflating thought of inadequacy; here a lurch of desire for a sleek, well turned-out woman, th-ere a picador’s lance of envy at her undeserving boyfr-iend in the slobby polo shirt.

I return from these shopping expeditions with a discount grab-bag of those feelings the spiritual traditions agree most occlude compassion. I’m collecting a set of action figures based on Augustine’s deadly sins. Yesterday I snagged Mammon, avarice (a Buddhist would call him tanha, craving), and today my favourite, Leviathan, jealousy, complete with light-up green eyes.

The Koran describes jealousy as a “veil” that beclouds the eye of the heart. Jealousy turns other people into sources of resentment: If I had what you have, Leviathan croaks mechanically when I push the little oval button in his back, then I would be happy.

Jealousy tints everyone in bilious shades of envy. It presents a perfect paradigm of insufficiency: I am less because you are more. It’s a zero-sum game. — Beliefnet.com