How to Stop Comparing Yourself (and other Dimensions of Being Human)
I once went to a writing conference where a teacher paraphrased the writer Honor Moore as saying that “When we write, if we walk away from something that feels essential, we ourselves are diminished.” This has always stuck with me, both on and off the page.
Being with discomfort is sometimes the hardest part of writing. Yet it’s so important. We have to bear what’s uncomfortable to get to the writing that most matters. As a poster at the gym where I work out says, growth only happens outside of your comfort zone.
British author Oliver Burkeman writes about how the Jungian psychotherapist James Hollis recommended asking of every major life decision: ‘Does this choice diminish me, or enlarge me?’ Burkeman writes that this question, “circumvents the urge to make decisions in the service of alleviating anxiety and instead helps you make contact with your deeper intentions for your time.” Instead of just making choices that make you comfortable in the short-term, you make choices that though uncomfortable, help you grow.
What Hollis focused on in his work with clients was not happiness, but meaning. He found the more common question, what makes me happy? was not particularly useful because happiness can be so transient. Similarly, in an interview, scientist and author of a new book on life’s purpose, Samuel T. Wilkinson said, “Unfortunately, humans are not very good at predicting what leads to enduring happiness. We seem to have cognitive illusions that status or acquisition of goods will lead to satisfaction. But social science data repeatedly show that, beyond having enough for our needs, this sort of happiness doesn’t really last.” Hollis advocates for a deepening of one’s relationship to one’s own life journey. His experience with clients demonstrates that when this doesn’t happen, a person could very well be living someone else’s journey, such as living a parent’s unlived life or merely conforming to or following the cultural pressures of the moment.
What has been on my mind lately is what keeps us small, not just what keeps us in our comfort zone, but what keeps us at our pettiest. One answer I found was comparison. When we are focused on what others have that we don’t, we become just so tiny! We also are less grateful, less able to see what we do have.
In the writing world, as in most creative fields, there can be so much puffing up or feeling less than. It’s a subjective field where you hear about wildly different book deals, agents, publishers, awards, book sales, residencies, and if you are feeling vulnerable, of course such news can be destabilizing. Learning how to deal with comparison can be an important part of being a writer.
In Buddhism, mana is the Pali word for comparing mind. In Buddhist psychology, mana refers to three conceits of mind – referring not only to a feeling of “better than” (a superiority complex), but also feeling “less than” (an inferiority complex), and even “equal to.” Measuring oneself against others is very deep patterning in humans. In Buddhism, the path to enlightenment involves a falling away of the ways in which the heart and mind are bound and constricted. One of the very last to fall away is mana! Comparing oneself to others may be that engrained - a final obstacle to true openheartedness.
Any of these types of comparing are considered full of delusion. And yet, when we are experiencing mana and are comparing ourselves to others, we can’t detect the delusion. When we feel better than someone else, for example, on the surface it may feel good, but built into that strong sense of self is also a separation from others that can actually be painful. A comparing mind creates confinement rather than connection. Because of this delusion and separation, comparing can also stop us from growing, or sometimes even from caring deeply about others. This may sound like an exaggeration, but it is not. You only have to go as far as the newspaper to find examples of how this kind of superiority-separate-from-me mindset creates opportunities for dehumanization.
Of course, as a writer of color, I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that there are systemic and collective dimensions to this kind of mind. One of my favorite teachers, Sebene Selassie, points out an idea attributed to Krishnamurti, “You think you are thinking your thoughts, you are not; you are thinking the culture’s thoughts.” So, if you are living in a culture which pits certain socioeconomic classes or races above others, chances are that unconsciously seeps into your own thinking as well.
As writers, how do we work with comparing mind?
When I posed this question to my writing group, their first suggestion was to become aware of your own writing dreams. Not everything that happens to another writer even relates to your own path. They suggested writing it all down – writing your next steps as well as your wildest dreams. (Wasn’t it Snoop Dogg who said, "Dream big—you may never wake up.")
As you may have guessed, I believe practicing meditation can be enormously helpful, too. Mindfulness can free us from being trapped in the spiraling story concocted in our heads (writers have big imaginations!) It can literally bring us down to earth and back into our bodies. It can also help us be cognizant of unconscious bias, and of when we are feeling vulnerable, which are the times where a sense of “less than” can take root. If we are aware of being in a more vulnerable state, we can consciously choose to be more gentle with ourselves, to be more understanding rather than castigating. It’s not that the comparisons will utterly cease, but seeing these thoughts (rather than being caught in them) is freeing. When we step out of the comparison trap is often when we are our most authentic. We are more able to be there both for our own (difficult, essential) writing and for other people in our lives. Rather than feeling stuck or shrunken, we can feel a sense of expansiveness, bigheartedness.
What kind of freedom would come if I were not lost in comparing thoughts? is a hugely motivating question for me, one I plan on asking myself the next time I catch myself comparing. How about you?