Today, everyone has to work in order to provide for themselves.
There is no getting around it. In this little marvel of modern economic systems called capitalism, you essentially trade your time for money. So, naturally, jobs and everything to do with jobs such as getting them, getting better at them, surviving them and getting fired from them is an essential part of our everyday lives.
When people get a great job, you congratulate them.
You send them a card and give them a ring. When they get promoted, you send them a card as well.
So what do you do when your best friend gets your dream job? Say, you’re both musicians, okay? You’re going about your day, getting ready to play a gig at your local pub tonight. Pays 120 quid for the whole evening. Plus, you’re paying for your own taxi – no real sense in lugging your guitar and amplifier and the rest of the gear on a bus. After you’re done with your set, exhausted, with a sore throat, just wanting to go home, you get a call from your best friend. She proceeds to inform you that she’ll be warming the crowd for Eminem at O2 this year. You congratulate her and pay 20 quid for a taxi back home.
The next day you buy her a card. You’re going to say something along the lines of “Heartfelt congratulations; I’m so happy for you; You deserved it so much; etc.”
But this is what you really want to say to her. And it’s normal.
How the **** is this fair? You’ve known me since kindergarten, and we both know that my musical talent far surpasses yours. This is not a subjective opinion; on the contrary, it’s entirely objective. Why do I struggle and toil away in anonymity day after day, night after night? Do I not deserve a chance just like you?
What is going to happen next, ha?
You’re going to get noticed by a Sony or whathaveyou executive at O2, your career is going to take off and you’ll become successful and famous, while I’ll die alone with a quartet of pigeons I’ll sing to when dementia takes over.
Thanks a lot,
Break a leg(literally).
After a day or two, the acute feeling is going to go away.
You may still feel some of the chronic residual now and then, but that’s it. Teach and condition yourself to be happy for your friend, truly.
It may not be easy at first. But at the end of the day, it’s not about the money and fame. It’s about the way people will remember you when you’re gone.
Life can be exciting and rewarding without surreal amounts of money and luxury and whatever it is that’s shoved down our throats by the media as “end” goals. Improvement, sure. Cracking your head against the wall because you’ve not achieved stardom? No. Few do.
So just go ahead and be happy for your friends, be happy for people close to you. Because, in the end, that’s all it really matters.