Jealousy springs like a forgotten amaryllis bulb, red and bold, when I see social media feeds rife with success, pleasure, and joy.
Intellectually I know I should be happy for them (there I go “shoulding” all over myself again). I realize how shallow I am.
Of course, I *am* happy for them. Writing of my jealousy is repulsive.
Over the course of my adult years, I now know that jealousy is an indicator. I reflect on the jealousy, instead of violently stamping it out, hiding it under the bed, pretending I’m above it or hoping it will go away.
I’m jealous of famous people – of course, I am! Don’t they have a perfect life? Carefree and full of money, early on their talents were recognized, nurtured, encouraged and cultivated. Millions adore them. They are assisted in the daily work of life so they can focus on their talent. They have sufficient support, are found worthy, and promoted. Their fame and earnings prove that they are worthy!
Which must mean I am not.
I am jealous of my peers. Going gangbusters, their husband’s build their websites, they start businesses with their best friends, they achieve epic weight losses and muscle gains. They have support, are found worthy, and are promoted. Their success proves it.
Which means, I am not.
That guy in the backward baseball cap has started an online business helping other people start online businesses and earns hand-over-fist.
I do not.
That chick plugged away at a blog for ten years and now gets an IG @ from Gwyneth Paltrow.
I do not.
My children are healthy. My husband loving. Our dog is adorable. My parents are alive and well. Fantastic friends. I have beautiful in-laws, a home in a sought-after neighborhood in San Diego. I have freedom, health, stability, and privilege that some worldwide citizens wish for.
And yet….
These First World Problems make me feel worse, not better.
Stop the complaining and be grateful.
Grateful, the new “Feel Guilty” mantra if there ever was one….because if you have your more-than-basic needs met, wanting more is a criminal act.
Be Grateful countless wellness and spirituality based websites and blogs tell us. Adopt an Attitude of Gratitude!
I want to adopt an attitude of “Shut The Fuck Up.”
I am grateful. Believe me. I read enough news and donate to enough causes to know – I got it better than good; I GOT IT GREAT.
I am GREAT-FULL. I swear upon all the things I am great-full for I am grateful.
I am also jealous. And the jealous comes from wanting. And the wanting is for more.
Buddhism tells me I am suffering jealousy because I am attached. When I can sever my attachment I will no longer suffer.
Darn tootin’ I’m attached. Aren’t you?
I don’t know if I will reincarnate a million times from Firefly to reed to Cosmic Emperor to stay-at-home mom to prisoner.
I don’t know if I live one life and die and maybe go to heaven with a (hopefully) brief pit stop in purgatory to refine me before I live forever with God.
I don’t know if I only become worm food or ashes. I know I will become those things. I just don’t know if I’ll only become those things.
I know that I don’t know.
I know that I’m willing to admit ignorance on the matter.
I know science tells me I’m energy. I know what science says about energy. Energy is a conserved quantity, meaning it cannot be created or destroyed, only converted into one form or another. http://www.softschools.com/difference/kinetic_energy_vs_potential_energy/124/
I believe my soul is energy. I believe my soul never dies. I believe when my body dies the luminous part of me will continue to exist, gorgeously as it does now, but converted into another, as yet unknown to me, form.
But what does this have to do with jealousy?
It’s the other thing science tells me about energy being either kinetic or potential.
Kinetic energy is the energy of motion. A moving car, a hammer falling, a box being dropped are examples of kinetic energy.
Potential energy is stored energy or the energy of position or state. It’s the hammer raised before falling, the box lifted, the car started.
I see others exerting their kinetic energy. I sense my potential energy.
I feel.
I compare.
I stall, the hammer lifted, never falling.
I am the car, parked.
The dancer, with the choreography, memorized, before beginning the dance.
My soul knows.
Perhaps that’s why I stall?
It’s scary to speed, to fall, to dance.
Any one of those things can involve a crash.
Crashes hurt.
I’ve crashed often enough to know that crashes require a recovery.
My jealousy speaks loud and clear: it does matter. I want to fall, speed, dance.
And, so, here I am. stepping out, emerging, an amaryllis bulb, forgotten and forlorn. The bulb, potential energy. The emergence, kinetic energy. Unfurling, exploding, bursting free: a floral firework.
