Source: Pixabay
Source: Pixabay Pay attention to your inner experience as you look at each of these two pictures. How do you feel as you view each one? In which would you feel more comfortable, more at home? In which would you feel more successful?
Every so often one of my fellow Psychology Today bloggers posts a notification on our internal site about hitting a milestone in terms of numbers of readers. Headlines will announce “Hit my first million” or “five million.” One particular blogger has had over 20 million hits.
It’s hard not to compare when I read such statistics. Why haven’t I hit my first million? Will I ever hit 20 million? (Very unlikely.) What does all of this mean, if anything?
Social media has upped the ante on comparisons between our lives and those of our friends and colleagues. It’s easier than ever to compare one’s life to those we know, who seem always to be smiling and happy on whatever exotic vacation they’re taking or fine restaurant they’re eating at.
Authors compare sales of books, sports figures compare statistics, many of us compare salaries, looks, success of children, number of grandchildren, size of homes, etc. etc. Is there anyone who isn’t comparing and feeling they come up short? There’s only one LeBron James in basketball, only one Bill Gates in wealth. If we can’t be #1 in something, does that mean we have to live our lives as less than?
I think there are several ways to deal with comparison envy. Spoiler alert: none of these alone or even together will make the pinch you feel go away completely. But I’m not sure that’s such a bad thing either, and I’ll get to that at the end.
First, I think feminists have something to offer us in this realm. I used to think that the feminist viewpoint was all about political rights — equal pay, equal access, equal treatment. It is certainly that, but what speaks to me more is the deconstruction of the male hierarchical way of measuring success. I heard a woman speak about a feminist approach to Judaism that made me want to be a feminist. In Judaism, there is very much a hierarchy of knowledge: those who know more are clearly afforded more respect than those who know less, and with 3,500 years of accumulated writings it’s really hard to be on the top of that pyramid. Her perspective was much more about connection — that it is the religious experience which means more than the religious achievement. I found myself relaxing at her words, and it has been a wonderful counterbalance to my perpetually feeling less than in terms of knowledge.
Second, there’s a wonderful saying popular in the 12-step community: “Don’t compare your inside to someone else’s outside.” I think this speaks to the temptation to live our lives from the outside in rather than the inside out, to over value how something looks and undervalue how it actually feels. Of course we can’t ignore the external, but over valuing it creates an imbalance between how we actually feel vs. how we think we’re supposed to feel. Letting your inner experience be your guide is the best way I know to make all of life’s important decisions.
Third, I think we really have to learn who we were born to be and then strive to become that. Not all of us were born to write best sellers. It’s a specific skill set that’s required, and letting number of copies of books sold be the sole criteria for worth does a disservice to both us and the best seller writer. If I don’t accept that I have a smaller but more specialized niche to write about, I won’t be fulfilling my calling, I’ll be unhappy, and I’m quite likely to snipe at the person who has a different path that involves selling lots of books.
Finally, I think this struggle is a good struggle to have. We live in a world where the external is constantly distracting us, calling to us, seducing us. The process of learning to discern the still, small voice within is as important as learning to develop our muscles through exercise. It strengthens us and makes us happier, more resilient, and more whole.
THE BASICSSo which of the two homes at the top is your version of success?