Envy dwells within me like a stubborn cluster of cancer cells resistant to treatment. It is the only one of the seven deadly sins that promises no fun whatsoever. I’d rather succumb to sloth or gluttony.
But alas, envy is the sin that routinely roils me.
In the interests of self-preservation (or sanity?) I must ask:
Is it fair to label envy a “sin,” or might there be exploitable value in these feelings—something positive, or useful, that can be salvaged from its ugly aspect?
In search of answers, I begin with how envy feels, how it manifests in the body:
Envy produces an all-over achiness. It triggers emotional storms and racing thoughts. It creates a profound dis-ease—an inability to relax in the moment. And it induces a kind of blindness—an inability to focus on anything but the object of envy. Other realities fall away when envy is present.
The phrase “pierced with envy” rings true. A piercing…and a poisoning.
“Envy is an overwhelming emotion.”
—Eubie Blake, musician and composer
I want to understand why this painful state arises so often, and what, if anything, I can do to mitigate it. Perhaps envy is not unlike self-doubt: uncomfortable feelings to be managed, rather than eradicated.
Perhaps envy is doubt’s unfriendly, and unwelcomed, avatar:
When we see others succeed in ways we ourselves wish to succeed, the distance between their achievements and ours unleashes our inner doubt monsters. Why isn’t that me out there doing x…? Where do I fall short?
The philosophy Jean Vanier suggests that “Envy comes from people’s ignorance of, or lack of belief in, their own gifts.”
That’s the doubt-linkage right there. I can vouch for it. When I’m envying someone’s accomplishments, I’m automatically questioning my own ability to reach those same heights.
And that’s the nugget, isn’t it?
Envy inflames not only self-doubt, but often self-loathing, or at least failure; those persistent feelings of not being enough as you are. Meanwhile, as I wallow there, I’m ignoring everything that’s going right, everything I’ve done well, all the ways I may in fact be succeeding.
Not simply ignoring, but negating and undervaluing.
Envy is indeed blinding. A crowder-outer. An eviscerator.
Envy turns us inside out—our vulnerabilities exposed to the air, our competence tucked away in hidden recesses.
It’s of little, if any, comfort to recognize that envy is universal.
“It is in the character of very few men to honor without envy a friend who has prospered,” said Aeschylus.
Not much consolation there.
Still, we feel what we feel. How we respond to those feelings is where change happens.
So where envy is concerned, I readily concede its presence and how easily it takes root. But I’m not helpless.
I can, for starters…
(1) Work to sever envy from self-judgment. Meaning, I may resent another’s success while acknowledging that their triumphs don’t take anything away from—or cheapen—my own. I am not lesser-than just because someone else is, in my eyes, greater-than.
Envy is not a zero-sum game (if you win, I lose); there’s room for us all to achieve and reach new heights on our own terms.
“Envy is an insult to oneself.”
—Yevgeny Yevtushenko, Russian poet
I can also…
(2) Convert envy into inspiration and aspiration. Phenomenally successful people and trailblazers aren’t out there solely to make the rest of us feel like miserable ants. They’re also there to model pathways we can adapt to forge our own journeys toward greater triumphs.
Let me re-center this thought. The winners are out there doing their own thing. We’re over here doing our own thing, which is just as valid and worthwhile. And while they may be “bigger,” we too can get “bigger,” if that’s what we really want. We should use them—the example they set—in whatever way benefits us.
Another way I can cope with envy is how I cope with self-doubt:
(3) Don’t give it so much power. I’m prone to states of envy, so why not let that wash over me, see it for what it is—one feeling among many, which will pass as I make room for more productive preoccupations.
“I don’t disparage envy, but I don’t accept it as legitimately my master,” said Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr.
So, is envy useful, after all?
Yes and no.
Envy is draining and defeating. That’s just a fact (in my world, anyway).
But envy also forces us to dig deeper in search of why we so easily cast aside being the hero of our own story.
Why do we cede all the glory to others, let them hog the spotlight and take up so much room in our brains—room we could be making for our own creative sparks?
This is a question worth asking and answering—for myself, and I hope for you too.
Wonderful, spot-on piece. I'm envious of your ability to talk on these topics so succinctly. ;)
Yes we want the success too. The good thing is the trailblazers have given us a roadmap - we just have to put it to use and do the work.