ENVY IS AN ARROW

I loved how Glennon Doyle was able to reframe the way we look at envy in a recent podcast interview with Brene Brown. Jealousy is often debilitating. We watch as outsiders as others pursue their passions scrolling through the mental laundry list of why we can’t do the same. “It’s already been done”, “I’m not qualified”, etc.

But, Glennon suggested we view envy as an arrow pointing us in the direction of our purpose instead. What if we were able to lean into our jealousy to see more clearly what’s at it’s root. What if we were able to shift those negative feelings into a driving force that eventually helps pinpoint our own unique purpose? It’s probably true that whatever you long to do has been done before. But, it’s also true that there’s not a person on Earth who can do it exactly the way you can.

Read on for a glimpse into my thoughts on jealousy in the beginning of full blown crisis mode. I was frantic to find my calling and you better believe writing was nowhere on my radar. At first, it felt outlandish to consider these questions, but I couldn’t shake them. In time I was able to dissect each response, pulling glimmers of deeper understanding of myself from them until I’d gathered enough to start in a new direction.

Are there creative outlets you embraced as a child that you wish you’d never lost sight of? What would you do if you could have any occupation in the world? It may feel silly saying it out loud, but you never know what the answers may uncover, or where they may lead.

Every night, I greet Field with a glass of wine and new idea for how I can make money- My visions of how to become a self-assured adult. During the day I engross myself in serious career research to prepare for the night’s conversation. I google things like, “What am I supposed to do with my life?” and “How to find my purpose”. My Siri got way more than she bargained for.

Sometimes my questions lead to online quizzes and I take them, because, you know...research. I discount most of them when I don’t like their answers, but one actually turns out to be somewhat insightful. It asks:

“What are the things you did as a child that she would cry knowing you no longer do?”

I am suddenly aware of the warmth emitted from my laptop to the tops of my legs. The heat extends throughout my body in a cruel wave of realization. Um, everything? I don’t do anything I loved when I was eight any more. I have real babies instead of dolls, but I don’t perform, or play, or paint. What a depressing revelation. Who’s the asshole that posed this question? Next, it asks to think about jobs I am jealous of. This does not initially help me narrow my options, but it’s some definite food for thought.

I am jealous of my friend who owns her own handbag line. What I wouldn’t give to have a reason to use the hashtag “girlboss” on social media. I’m jealous of the fashion bloggers dressing up and jetting off to New York Fashion Week. I am jealous of my friend who works for Make-A-Wish, the non-profit that grants wishes for children with terminal cancer. I think I might be jealous of my friend who is in the Peace Corps. I’m jealous of my sister-in-law who’s an artist. Shit, I’m jealous of my sister-in-law who is a “Senior Investment Officer”, and I can’t even begin to pretend I understand what that entails.

I’m jealous of all of them for having something of their own- for making an impact- but don’t actually envision myself taking any of their particular paths. If I’m honest with myself, I am most jealous of Oprah and what on God’s green earth am I supposed to do with that?