I’ve never been envious or jealous,* of course, but I can imagine it’s a remarkably uncomfortable feeling . . . something like a wave of self-consciousness and distrust collecting in the body and collapsing all strength and rationality, if momentarily, as the mantra repeats, “Why not me?” We evaluate another’s success or read another’s words and might as well cross our arms and stomp our feet.
This two-pronged emotion fascinates me, especially when it comes to creativity. Even the impetus of creativity. I grabbed the following paragraph from The Evolutionary Psychology of Envy and Jealousy.
Jealousy is a motive of immense potency. Although you are often consciously aware of being jealous or envious of someone, sometimes the actual reasons for the envy are buried in your unconscious and disguised by rationalizations. Ironically, what you really value in life is more often revealed by asking yourself who you are jealous of rather than asking yourself directly “what do I value.” The latter often taps into what society expects you to value; your “superego” takes over – and you are aware only of what you should want rather than what you really want. Envy and jealousy, on the other hand, kick in as a gut reaction in your emotional/evaluative system long before you become conscious of it.
My favorite takeaway from this passage, “sometimes the actual reasons for the envy are buried in your unconscious and disguised by rationalizations,” suggests an interesting frame for this uncomfortable emotion. It suggests that the emotion itself is not something we can think ourselves out of because it’s not even conscious.
To me, this is partly disconcerting and partly cool. It suggests that we can use our work, as writers and artists, to explore this complex emotion.
While I don’t often covet other humans’ publication credits or fame/fortune, I catch myself wishing I had more time and energy. Maybe this is a type of jealousy that comes with age. And, if I’m being honest, sometimes I wish I found fashion more intuitive (I’m minimalist). Meanwhile, I used to be riddled with envy of the more petty variety. Anyone who had a better education or more monetary resources had me doing the internal foot stomp.
Feel free to diagnose this.
Perhaps I felt intellectually stunted compared to others and feared I didn’t have natural gifts, or maybe it boiled down to a simple sense of safety. I’ve since resolved (or at least reduced) this feeling by exploring the idea in fiction and nonfiction through characters and essays. Because writing, for me, is a personal development practice that taps, if briefly here and there, the subconscious.
It introduces me to whatever soundtrack plays in the background of my life’s plot. Such realizations are often reduced to writing as therapy, but I think of it more as writing to get to know one’s self.
If jealousy is more subconscious than conscious, can we tap into the reason behind it through artistic expression? I have yet to try this prompt myself, but if you’re game, let’s do it together.
Optional freewriting prompt: Freewrite about anyone or anything you’ve been jealous/envious of/about, then write about what’s beneath it.
Optional research prompt: Read some of your old writing and see if you notice any patterns or clues in older work. Does this emotion surface?
Let me know if you try it. In the meantime, I added a meditation on this topic. I wrote it a few years ago and still find it useful (see podcast link).
xo Jen
This touches a nerve. Never thought of myself as envious or jealous when it comes to creative work. Although I might have been a bit when I was younger. But back then, I was not really tuned into my subconscious as I think I am now. I know for certain, however, that somewhere deep inside, as you say, where I can't always realize it, is that emotion, and like you, I believe I explore it in my creative work, subconsciously writing stories, essays, even song lyrics that speak to that emotion. It certainly is not overt or planned, but like all the other human emotions, it rears its head in ways that we can't always understand. And to me, creative work is discovery. So, now and then, I do discover both the beautiful and -- in this case -- the uncomfortable truths.
So interesting. I think envy factors into every character and plot that I write because I live in a world filled to the brim with envy. People ditch you if they think your life is doing better than their life. It's unsettling. Politics, which slams us continually (if we let them in) is a true study in envy. Politicians have no remorse that I can see, just this unstoppable drive to beat out the others. Our political system today is a study in pure envy at its worst. Because their choices always put themselves first, not the world at large. And that is truly scary.