Jealousy
Jealousy: An emotion many of us struggle with, but few admit to. The following piece by a writer in one of my writing groups identifies it for what it is so well, I asked his permission to share it with you.
Question:
Do you ever get jealous of others in your writing?
Response:
I'd like to say I'm not suseptible to jealousy . . . I'd like to, but lying is worse than being jealous. It's worse when things don't seem to be moving for me and others are reporting this wonderful success. It's not that I'm not happy for them, I am, I promise. But deep inside in the place I banish it to when it rears its ugly head, it creeps out, "why didn't you get that award, make that deal, do that great thing," it hisses.
Then I hit it over the head, that's coveting something my neighbor has, some success they have rightfully earned. Bad monster.
"No," it says, "it's not coveting what they have if you don't want what they have, but merely similar success or achievement." Tricky monster. Back to your dark recess.
"No," it whines, "this is not a sin or a fault, it is drawing motivation for success of your own." Logical monster, and that one sounds pretty good. But success of our own doesn't depend on building on what others are doing, but is recognition of what God is allowing us to do. Didn't I tell you to get out of here?
"But you don't understand, if it hadn't been them doing that, it would have been you." The monster hissed at the hole to the recess. I don't buy that, it isn't a competition, it's God's plan for my life and my writing and has nothing to do with who else is working in the same area. This is the last time I'm telling you to get back in that dark recess.
As it slithers back I can see the green monster has substance and shape. It is a serpent. I should have known who it was all along.
Blessings,
Terry
Copyright (c) 2005 by Terry Burns
Question:
Do you ever get jealous of others in your writing?
Response:
I'd like to say I'm not suseptible to jealousy . . . I'd like to, but lying is worse than being jealous. It's worse when things don't seem to be moving for me and others are reporting this wonderful success. It's not that I'm not happy for them, I am, I promise. But deep inside in the place I banish it to when it rears its ugly head, it creeps out, "why didn't you get that award, make that deal, do that great thing," it hisses.
Then I hit it over the head, that's coveting something my neighbor has, some success they have rightfully earned. Bad monster.
"No," it says, "it's not coveting what they have if you don't want what they have, but merely similar success or achievement." Tricky monster. Back to your dark recess.
"No," it whines, "this is not a sin or a fault, it is drawing motivation for success of your own." Logical monster, and that one sounds pretty good. But success of our own doesn't depend on building on what others are doing, but is recognition of what God is allowing us to do. Didn't I tell you to get out of here?
"But you don't understand, if it hadn't been them doing that, it would have been you." The monster hissed at the hole to the recess. I don't buy that, it isn't a competition, it's God's plan for my life and my writing and has nothing to do with who else is working in the same area. This is the last time I'm telling you to get back in that dark recess.
As it slithers back I can see the green monster has substance and shape. It is a serpent. I should have known who it was all along.
Blessings,
Terry
Copyright (c) 2005 by Terry Burns
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