Discern

I watched this video a few days ago and could not stop laughing.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ZSIYQeF7FE&feature=player_embedded.  Being the mother of teenagers, I found an instant affinity to the writer’s sardonic acceptance of his adolescent’s lack of ambition.  But the underlying theme, and I think what makes this subject so real to so many, is our chronic habit of comparing ourselves to others.

It feels like every walk of life is laden with overachievers. Isn’t that all we ever hear about?  As parents, we compare our children to each other by the number of Advanced Placement classes they are enrolled in, the tier of the sporting team they play on, the number of extra-curricular activities they’re involved in.  The college graduate who gets the job at the office has an advanced degree from the most prestigious university, an exhaustive resume of internships, volunteer work with a myriad of worthy charitable organizations. To even participate in epic sporting events like the Olympics you need to be extraordinary, but that doesn’t even seem to be enough in this venue; the press flocks only to the superhuman, bejeweled with multiple medals.   

Even the most confident person has to look at herself sometimes and wonder how she can possibly measure up.  This mindset can be even more devastating when you feel like you are working really hard to be the best, yet it looks like someone less qualified is winning.

I’ve spent a lot of time gauging whether my climb up the corporate ladder is expeditious enough by comparing myself to my peers.  The absolute worst came out in me many years ago when I worked for a manager who I did not view as talented enough to be in a role that was senior to me.  I am forever indebted to a close colleague and dear friend who patiently listened to me for months as I doubted my own talent. Every evening, it seemed, I spewed another story laced with bitterness about “Charming”, our code name for my self-proclaimed nemesis. My logic, at the time, told me I must be marginally competent at best if the powers-that-be in my organization deemed this guy skilled enough to be my boss.

Of course I was all wrong.  I’ve since learned “comparison is the thief of joy”.  (I think I’ve quoted Theodore Roosevelt in a previous blog).  Safely removed from the situation, I can see now it was nearly impossible for me to be happy with what I had accomplished when I was constantly comparing myself to Charming.  It was so bad; in fact, I was demotivated; wondering why I needed to work so hard if other people around me appeared to be getting ahead when it seemed they hardly did any work at all.

Over the years I’ve become much more comfortable in my skin and confident in my abilities.  Sure, I occasionally, well maybe a little more than occasionally, compare myself to others.  But I’m quick to remind myself that I possess a unique combination of skills that distinguish me from everyone else. 

We all possess our own secret sauce or magic potion no one else can touch.  The challenge is in figuring out what it is and capitalizing on every opportunity to exploit it. That’s what Joan of Arc and Annie Oakley did.  Who cares if they were only teenagers at the time?

It’s been quite some time since I’ve spent any time thinking about Charming. Maybe a year ago I found a sealed envelope labeled in my handwriting:  “To be opened in 2014”.  I smiled as the memory of what was inside came back to me. My friend who consoled me through my months with the sub-par manager wanted to make a point to me that none of this would really matter in the grand scheme of things.  Inside the envelope was the question she suggested I pose to be answered far in the future: “Where is Charming now?”