I've been envious of so many people throughout my life that the thought of it is embarrassing.
I was jealous of a friend because I thought he was more handsome than I, and girls liked him more.
I was envious of a family member because she traveled more than I did. I was resentful of another person this time because he was more successful in his endeavor, and I was not.
I thought some in my entourage had more money, more recognition, better jobs, more freedom than I. Perhaps, it was true. But it certainly brought despair upon me.
In my thirties, enviousness reached a pinnacle. I craved too much. It started to ruin my life.
It made me mournful and sad. It seemed I was always missing out on something.
Filled with longing, I missed to observe and learn new things. Blinded, I failed to understand what made others better. And grasp why they accomplished what they did and how they achieved their goals.
Instead, I complained and felt even more depressed.
Had I been more far-seeing and less desperate I would have been able to be more open minded and let my friends teach me.
Henceforth, improve my know-how and become better at what I wanted to achieve without being so envious, and learn to be genuinely more passionate.
And let joy lead the way.