Jealousy/Envy and being creative

Wow, loved the letter to Cary Tennis today, and his response. The title is

"My sister is a famous designer - and I'm not!" subtitled
"I do good work but I fear I'm mediocre and my heart is poisoned with jealousy."

A short summary from the letter:

The problem is the constant sense that I'm just not good enough, not the artist I wanted to be, and not the artist my sister is.

From Cary:

The minute you hear that voice in your head that says you've wasted your life doing mediocre design, stop it. Don't do it. When you start to do it, stop as soon as you realize what you're doing. Say out loud, I am a designer. I am an artist. I make honest work. I make a living at my work! I'm a good designer. I do good work!

Just like you, I fucking beat myself up night and day until I'm black and blue because I'm not the guy who wrote "The Corrections" even though I couldn't even read "The Corrections," and I couldn't even read "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius" even though I'd like to be Dave Eggers, and why the fuck would I want to be Dave Eggers? Because I'm a sick fucker, that's why, because I hate myself. And I have to stop doing that. I have to love myself.
I have to love myself because loving myself is the only thing that stands between me and suicide.

I love myself because I have to. I love myself because suicide is not an option. I love myself because other people love me and I've got no right. So I love myself immoderately and without delay. I love myself without recompense, without reason, without state sponsorship or licensing, without writing a proposal first or getting a grant, without getting dressed up first and taking a shower, without calling ahead to find out what time I should love myself, without buying a bottle of wine and some flowers first, without shining my shoes and clipping my nails. I love myself because of you. I love myself because there are people like you and me all over the world beating ourselves up because our sisters made more money, because our sisters are more perfect, because everybody loves our sister better. Jesus, woman! Love yourself! Take the afternoon off. Pick up something you've made that you love and admire it. Spend all day admiring it. Don't criticize it. Don't pick it apart. You made it. You are a creative person. You don't control the market. You don't even control your creativity. It's a gift. Take care of it.

From commenters to the letter:

#1
Welcome to adulthood. As children, we are told we are beautiful, talented, so smart. we are told we can be astronauts, great artists, President! But as life goes on, we find that we can't. Maybe we don't have perfect vision. Maybe we're not schoozing machines and no one would ever give us money, not even our parents. And then, we find out that we can't draw--or worse, we can recognize great art, but though we pursue it like the will-o-the-wisp it is, it slips through our fingers. And that's life.
My brother and I both program. He's a genius at it. I'm merely good enough to make a living. He's worked for prestigious employers and makes lots of money. I could envy his brilliance, hate that his paycheck has another zero more than mine. I could be terribly jealous because he is the programmer I will never be. I'll never have what he has.
I refuse to compare myself to him because it would eat me up inside. He has his strengths and I have mine. If you go through life comparing yourself to other people, you will always find those greater and lesser than yourself. There will always be someone smarter, richer, thinner, better. Good for them! But you can't let it diminish you and your own accomplishments and talents.
So what if you're not the next Vera Wang. So what! Cut yourself a little slack. So what if you are merely functionally talented instead of sublimely talented, look where your hard work and drive have gotten you! How many people would KILL to be YOU and do the work you do every day? Lots of people probably envy you.
You know what my brother envies? My life. My kids, my loving spouse. He envies my writing talent, how handy I am around the house, how I'm a better athlete than he ever could have hoped to be. I'll bet you, if you talked to your sister, you'd find she has the same fears about not being the artist she wishes she was. Despite all the money, all the success, all her talent... she might just be jealous of you. Because like my brother, I bet your sibling sees you in a very different light than you see yourself.

#2
I am reminded of a story about two people at a party discussing a very competitive hedge fund manager on the other side of the room, and one of them mentioned that he made $100 million this year. The other person, a mere financial mortal said, "I have something that he will never have." After a pause, he added, "enough."

#3
According to a biography I read, Humphrey Bogart used to cry (drunkenly) on his birthday because he felt like he wasn't good enough. Someone finally asked him why he felt like such a loser when he had a huge house, a great career, money, kids, and Lauren Bacall. And his reply was, "I expected better from me."

One key moment I got an ah-ha moment with envy was a few years in San Francisco. I was going through a really difficult season and at church that Sunday morning, I had been crying to God and praying in the top balcony "loner" part of my church. I cried a lot during that season, probably everyday. After church I hung out at my two good friends' apt who also happened to be married to each other. They are the easiest married couple to hang out with ever, so chill, and so perfectly matched. We had lunch and sat around talking. As I drove home, I felt such strong envy of them, of their finding each other, being happy. I distinctly remember driving through GG Park and being sad (my general sadness at that time was not related to being single).

After I arrived home, my roommate came home. She shared how she had seen me crying during worship and service, and confessed her envy of my being able to cry so easily. She said she wished she could do that, and pray so freely with tears like that. To meet God in my pain. She was more of a stoic, less-emotion-expressing person. I was touched by her sharing and was struck of how everyone is envious of each other about something. I hadn't seen my tears as such a positive but to her, it was. I took it for granted though crying everyday can be hard to feel is a positive :) But to her, it was. Just like my friends' marriage made me envious but they probably took it for granted, or maybe even only saw the problems.

God, I am grateful for my relationship with You, for hearing and talking with You, for emotions, all my emotions even the ones I wish I didn't have, for fun sunny vacations, for tan lines, for my safe and reliable car that has yet to break down on the Bay Bridge (you heard me, former Jetta!), for adorable cats, warm furry bodies, for Mitch "kissing" me by repeatedly nudging his nose into my chin, for my community, for so many friends and people to share life with, for healing and forgiveness and reconciling and hope, for our freedom, for being a woman, for my ethnicity, for being healthy, for bringing me to the college I hadn't wanted at all but am so glad I went to, for everything You've given, even the hard things I've been through. For everything.

So here's to loving ourselves, having more grace on our mistakes, and being able to see our gifts and talents without criticism. I'll toast to that!