I have jealousy.
It waxes and wanes, conditional on my level of productivity, creativity, busyness and boredom. It’s always at its height when I’m not in it: in my flow, focused and directed by the guide of inspiration.
I leave my self to search frantically for what I’m not and what I wish I could be. I’m missing something. I’m missing…
I trick myself into thinking he/she/they have something I don’t, something better than what I am and what I have to offer. Fire rises from the base of my belly all the way up to my ears.
Shit. I hate this feeling. I’m not nice or sweet or calm when I’m in this. I’m so fucking ugly; I disgust myself.
He/she/they become a threat, and all I can obsess over is what they are and what I’m not and I start to resent them, fear them, like they’re going to steal my spirit and leave me with nothing. I am nothing in these moments, worthless, useless.
And then—I come to and I remember, jealousy is easily extinguished.
How? Jealousy is a sedentary activity.
The solution is to walk back inside, pick up my pen, place my fingers on the keys and do what I love.
Poof! I’m nice again, all glow-y and goddess-y.
During my little breaks from impassioned action, I look out with appreciation for he/she/they.
There’s equal space for all of us; I remind myself each and every day. ~Rebecca