Familiar Poison

The longer I’ve written, the clearer it has become to me that what I think about when I’m not writing has a greater effect on my career than how well I actually write when I’m at my desk. It’s when I’m doing the dishes or shopping or making lunch that I’m mostly likely to indulge my doubts, worrying about how many books I’m selling or not selling, or simply seeing myself as a victim of my circumstance rather than its author, the one choosing where I am and what I think and what I do. There’s so much useless thinking I’ve done, but there may be no more sneakily useless kind of thinking than the bottomless hunger of envy.

I thought of this recently as I was researching an author I wanted to interview. Things were going well for her: she had a #1 NY Times bestseller, she had a new and very popular podcast, and she was teaching workshops the world-over. As I read through her impressive CV, I noticed it – the empty pang, the craving, and that ugly, lowly place I put myself when I see the world divided into haves and have-nots. I immediately closed the browser window. It was like tasting poison, and yet I suspected I might drink of it again if I wasn’t careful.

You can get accustomed to anything, even poison. Fortunately, I noticed envy’s bitter flavor specifically because it had been a while since I’d tasted it. I realized then how often I’d tried to sustain myself off of it when I was having no success. Envy, you see, feels a bit like desire, that creative energy directing our work and our lives. Nothing is more unique to me than what I authentically desire, and nothing fuels me like pursuing those desires unconditionally.

But seeing someone else’s life, and wanting their success is not desire at all. Believing someone has more than me is like starving myself so that I will want to eat. I cannot have someone else’s desire, what actually brought them their success, the thing I supposedly want. I can only have mine, and no one else can have it, and no one can have more or less than I do. Authentic desire is equally available to everyone, but it is not equally availed. And so the world appears divided between the hungry and satiated, the weak and the strong, the unloved and loved.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual coaching and group workshops.

William KenowerWriting, William Kenower, Envy, SuccessComment