But soon it became apparent that I would not be able to be the BEST at EVERYTHING. I saw friends around me receiving one-to-one piano lessons, and being able to play very nice pieces of music that I had never even heard of before. Or they began talking about having read classic books, or about smart-sounding concepts, also unknown to me, or showed me that they knew other languages besides spanish and english. But instead of enjoying the music, or trying to absorb the concepts, understand the new language, or feeling happy for my friends skills, my initial reaction was that of envy. I listened to the music piece, and I thought "he can get more attention for his piece, I don't know how to play that piece! He is now able to grab attention that I cannot grab by the same means! How terrible! What to do?" And my stomach turmoiled, and my throat clenched up as my pride broke, holding back involuntary but powerful tears of rage, of envy, of embarrassment, at failing to be the best at that particular task, even if I had never had the chance to learn this skill in the past. Even if no one else cared.
I've noticed similar reactions in other children I know, now that I have grown up. I don't know if their reactions are as strong as the ones I had, but I have recognized their behavioral pattern to be very similar to mine. Each one always aiming for over-achievement in all aspects, loves to learn new things, curious, smart, always an attention-lover. Ashamed and enraged, broken pride, holding back tears when he fails to be better than everyone else. This observation has at least empirically proven to me that I am not a terrible person for acting in such a way, and that this behavior and pattern of feelings is more probably due to a certain combination of natural skills, manner of upbringing, and chance, more than to ill will.
In any case, as I have grown up, I think I have shed most of this behavior away from me. The change was gradual - at first I justified my "failures" by pettily telling myself how I had never cared to be better at that skill in the first place, or how lame of a skill it was to have anyway. Then I grew what I think to be a more mature understanding of how the world actually works, and how competition is not the main goal in Life. I can now appreciate things that are unknown and/or wondrous to me, such as a music composition or a dance act, honestly accept that I do not possess the skills to create such things, and still enjoy them thoroughly, embrace them with passion and good will. I always keep the curiosity of the new, a desire to learn the skills that I lack, but I believe it has become a healthy and benign desire, instead of the all-consuming rage and tears I once experienced. I say I have shed "most" of this behavior - "Most" is right, because even last year my words stopped when I realized I knew less languages than several friends I hung out with, and not a week ago, losing 3 consecutive uphill bicycle races to an experienced biking friend spun my mind reeling with thoughts about how there must be something wrong with my bike, how maybe my bike's gears or wheels were smaller than his, or how maybe my tires were not as well-inflated as his.
I'd like to become more open to other people's skills, perspectives, triumphs. I now mentally understand and acknowledge that different people have different skill sets and knowledge, and how it is almost impossible to find a pair of people A and B for which A is "better" than B at ALL skills, virtues, talents, and features. Even when "better" is clearly defined (and often it is not), two people cannot be directly compared, one said to be clearly "better" than another. We are not points in a line, either to the left or to the right of each other. We are people, rich beings, ultra-multi-dimensional, full of diverse experiences, and each of us contributes to the richness of the world with our own unique perspectives. One person could never fully imagine the life of another - no person is fully replaceable - how can then a person be labeled "better" than any other? In specific contexts, maybe... arguably, but not absolutely. Not absolutely.
Emotionally however, I keep a competitive spirit. I think this is a good thing to have, as long as its reaction to failure is properly bridled and diverted into a desire to be better and learn new things, instead of allowed to become raw envy and disappointment.
Neugierigkit ist gut, glaube ich. Aber überschreiten die Überschüssige nicht.
Or as a friend of mine posted on facebook a couple of days ago:
No comments:
Post a Comment