Being jealous

January 2nd, 2024

I am jealous of many things and of many people. I can live with most of my pangs of jealousy since I am sure other people could be jealous of me and the way I am and the way my life goes on. That evens things out in my mind. There is one thing though that bothers me and makes my jealousy flare up when I notice it — it is the imagination of writers and artists and musicians and the way they convey their imagination in written words or works of art or in songs. The only thing that helps me to deal with this jealousy (which can be blinding at times) is telling myself that imagination cannot be quantified and that mine is just as good as the imagination I experience in books or paintings or music.

But, is it actually true that imagination cannot be quantified? There are times when the imagination of a creator is so deeply expansive and thorough and profound that I feel inadequate just reading or seeing or listening. I ask myself — why can't I do the same? Is there a limit to my creativity so I can present my imagination at a level I believe I might have? Surprisingly, I rarely, if ever, ask myself — what is stopping me from doing the same? I think that is a constant problem with my insecurities, and, by extension — a problem with constant questioning of my abilities. How will I know what my abilities are if I don't put myself in the spotlight to show my abilities? I am already great and very successful at making excuses, maybe it is time to do something more.