Envy
With the spirit of an overzealous English teacher, I love to search for themes in my life. For the last few weeks, the theme has been the little green-eyed monster called envy. It has been rearing its ugly head ceaselessly, as I read or watch TikTok or watch TV or talk to friends. Why can’t I be like that? Why can’t I write like that? Why can’t I dance like that? Why can’t I run 12 miles and have a 6 pack? Why can’t I create ethereal ambient music with a mess of modular synthesizers? Why!
Last week, I finished Cathy Park Hong’s Minor Feelings, an incredible work of creative nonfiction that combines cultural criticism and memoir to provide salient commentary on the Asian American experience. Hong’s words pierced through me, validating my experience while pushing me to examine myself further. It made me feel everything from joy and stress to reverence and wistfulness. And yet, as I sat in my bed after finishing the book, I felt a knot in my stomach. I went to my desk and tried to start writing, outlining my experiences and writing snippets of words that sounded nothing like my own in feeble attempts to mimic what Hong was able to do.
Why can’t I write like that?
Inspired by Hong’s chapter on her college friends, I found myself scrolling through old conversations with a few college friends that I no longer spoke with. I enjoyed the nostalgia as I reminisced about all of the concerts we went to, meals we shared, and parties we hung out at. Yet, even these memories were pierced by my envy of Hong’s illustrious creative friendships from college.
Why don’t I have friends like that?
My relationship with Twitter can be described by the fact that I only let myself access it on my personal laptop, with a Chrome extension that restricts the amount of time I can spend on it. In my allotted time, I become the person that Boomers like to describe millennials addicted to social media— obsessed with “likes” and “followers” or whatever. I try my hardest to avoid losing myself to vanity metrics that have zero impact on my life, but I fail. I feel a tinge of envy every time one of my friends goes viral or is followed by someone I respect. Despite my logical belief that those things don’t matter, my brain can’t stop wondering
Why don’t people like me like that?
I’m envious of illustrators who create more beautiful pieces than anything I ever drew. I’m envious of people who have stacks of journals that they filled over the years. I’m envious of writers who create works more beautiful than I’ve ever thought possible. I’m envious of people who are in shape and of people who work out in the mornings and people who climb mountains and people who make beautiful music and people who don’t have a care in the world. I’m envious of the artists and the writers and the dancers and the singers.
My envy fuels cynicism and self-doubt. Writing has never felt more difficult, as I try to match the impossible standards that it wants me to face. It distorts my words so I can only see them amateur-ish and disjointed.
My conscious fights against my subconscious. I force myself to remember that art is not a competition. I force myself to remember myself that the point of this is not to compare myself to other people. I force myself to remember that writing is meant to be liberating, to let out the despair that lurks within and to free it from a reader.
In his novel Rules for a Knight, actor Ethan Hawke recounts a story of his narrator’s grandfather:
One time, on a sweltering August night, Grandfather and I made camp down by the ocean. He said, “While I teach you about the ways of war, I want you to know that the real struggle is between the two wolves that live inside each of us.”
“Two wolves?” I asked, seated on an old log near the fire. My eyes were transfixed by the flames twisting uncomfortably in the night air.
“One wolf is evil,” he continued. “It is anger, envy, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, deceit, false pride.” He paused, poking at the embers of our fire with a long stick he’d been carving.
“The other is good. It is joy, love, hope, serenity, humility, loving-kindness, forgiveness, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, faith.”
I considered that for a minute, then tentatively asked, “Which wolf will win?”
Sparks danced towards the stars as the old man stared into the glare of the flames and replied, “Whichever one you feed.”
I’ve been feeding the wrong wolf. Without a clear intention to feed the right wolf, I’ve been letting envy and greed and these negative emotions fester.
I wish to move forward remembering Austin Kleon’s mantra for defeating envy until it sticks:
“Good for him.”
“Good for her.”
“Good for them.”
“Good for you.”
The fight against systemic racism continues. With each day, we move closer to a more equitable world. Reminders:
Ways you can help Find your Local SURJ Chapter
Anti-racism resources
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Good for you,
Nikhil