I wish that envy never appeared in my life. Right now, one of the most talented, kindest and most supportive people I know, is having all the success I have dreamt of. No one deserves it more, no one has been more generous, not just to me. but to hundreds of writers and performers. If any writer should be given sainthood, he should. And still, I feel envious.
Life is simply difficult. The glass is both half full and half empty.
Last night, I took Lucy out for a walk and I ran into the young woman who manages the hotel across the street. She mentioned that her parents had been visiting NY and that it was probably the last time they would be able to do so. She told me that her mother, who is only 51, is going to be paralyzed, because of a tumor that's growing in her neck. This young woman just turned 30. She is too young to be dealing with such heartbreak. I wished there was something I could do to help. I know the only thing I can do is listen whenever we run into each other, if she feels like talking. I wish there were something more I could do, but her parents live in South Africa. I told her about Friends In Deed.
I am embarrassed that I feel envy about my writing, when life is filled with so many tragedies and challenges. I know that Pema Chodron would say, "You're human. Humans feel anger, envy, jealousy, rage, every single emotion. Feel them."
I guess right now I feel mostly sad, for my friend and for her family and for everyone in the world who is suffering. This is not an easy time for most people. But I am happy for my writing friend - and I am grateful for my life, for Zoe and Abigail, my dear friends, and for Lucy is who now pacing in front of me, ready to go out for her next walk.