It Looks Better From Up Here

Thoughts on Climbing Back Up the Slippery Slope of Comparison

About 1% of the US population has run a marathon, but it seems like everyone I know or follow on Instagram has (l mean not literally everyone, but it’s got to be at least 35%, which is way more than 1%). It’s often said that 97% of people who start writing novels never finish. 100% of my circle of writer friends have completed multiple full length novels.

You find your people, right? I’ve participated in several local training groups for half and full marathons. I know a lot of runners. When I was new to writing I attended conferences and professional groups with the intent of connecting with like-minded people. I keep up with my closest writer friends on a long-running Slack channel.

These communities are important. They are the people you compare field notes with and run your bizzarre-o ideas by (can you run a marathon using gummy bears as on course fuel? would someone want to read a book about a squirrel with a magic glittery tail?). They are the people who give you high fives when you cross the finish line and remind you that every author has a review that says they write like a six-year-old— not just you.

But there is a shadow side to these communities that it’s also important to talk about. Not as a warning to avoid community (that’s the absolute last thing I would ever recommend), but as a reminder to ourselves to avoid sliding down the slippery, muddy, slope of comparison. Or maybe more realistically, so we can identify when we are sliding and slow it down so we land a little softer at the bottom.

When everyone you know has done the same big thing you are doing or trying to do it sort of resets the baseline, right? For example, I sometimes find myself getting really disappointed that I didn’t break the 5 hour mark on my second marathon or that I haven’t sold millions (or . . .um . . .even hundreds) of copies of my books. I quickly loose track of the fact that I am capable of training my body to run 26 miles. That I have written thousands upon thousands of words, many of which people I don’t know have read and taken the time to say something nice about in a review.

This isn’t to say that I don’t believe in growth. I want to beat that five hour mark. I want more book sales. It also doesn’t mean that I don’t find all those runners and writers around me amazing. I can certainly be inspired by them and learn from them— but I have to make sure to remind myself that there isn’t one blueprint, or one right way. We don’t all run at the same pace and thinking I’m less than in some way because my numbers are different from everyone else’s is where the trouble starts.

A huge part of thinking about creating a business or creative practice that is healthy and sustainable is figuring out what pace is right for you. What milestones and goals you want to hit that feel realistic swirled together with all the other parts of you. It’s super difficult and I’m not great at it. I slide as hard and fast as anyone else down that slope of comparison to find myself covered in the icky muddy soup of self-doubt and pessimism at the bottom.

I certainly don’t have all the answers on getting out of the mire. However, I’m pretty sure that a step in the right direction is to find a bit of space to get quiet and shut out what everyone else around you is doing while you figure out what success looks like to you in this moment. Maybe it’s not supporting yourself entirely on your business this year, because the time you’d need to put in to make that math work would take away from time you want to spend with friends/family. Maybe it’s the opposite— going all in on the business and dialing back some of those commitments for a bit. Maybe it’s somewhere in the middle of that spectrum.

The tricky bit that always tangles me up is to remember that ALL of these decisions are right as long as they feel aligned to me— the person making them. No matter what anyone else is doing. I write my blueprint. You write yours. We’re both doing it right. There is no one right way.

While I don’t have all the answers to breaking free of this comparison loop, I’m certain that like much in life it starts with a deep breath. With getting just quiet enough to hear our own voice. Then baby stepping away from that muddy slope to find our firm footing at the top, instead.

I’m pretty sure there are plenty high fives for everyone up there.

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Things of Beauty

Just a few things that felt particularly soul-nourishing recently (or maybe just made me smile).

This article from Tiffany Yates Martin, which was certainly part of what sparked my reflection above.

This super controversial post by Jon Acuff (I’m totally team Stove Top).

This Sara Bareilles song, but really the whole album it’s on, which has been on heavy rotation for me throughout 2021. It started out satisfying a craving for live music and just became like the comforting presence of a really good friend.

Waterfalls! From a recent hike:

Would love to hear from you- whether it’s thoughts about how to outsmart that comparison loop, your opinion on stuffing (or dressing— but that’s a whole other debate), or something that’s kept you company lately.

Be well,

MaryChris

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Postscript

Running stats, if you’re curious.

Reddit thread about that 97% writing stat and whether it’s accurate or just oft quoted.