Here’s the link to subscribe. Remember to leave a like or a comment!
Dear Bolu,
"How well are you doing with life?"
If I asked you the above question your initial response would likely be vague. "Pretty well, I think". "You know how it goes, I'm doing alright". "Well, what can I say? I'm alive, aren't I?" If I probed you further and asked for specifics, you would likely give a comparative response; "Well, a month ago I couldn't renew my rent. Look at me now; homeless". "I bought XYZ stocks a year ago, and I haven't gotten any value for it". Neither response is remotely inspiring but both are comparative. They reference a baseline—the state of one's finances.
It is normal to give comparative responses when answering questions about our well being. We needn't always consciously perform the comparison but it happens even if it is at the subconscious level. I like to categorize the comparisons we make into two based on the baseline used. Side note; when people use the word “categorize”, you must get the feeling that they are about to deliver a long, boring lecture. But this isn't anything of that sort, I assure you. In Category 1, we use our past selves as the baseline so we essentially ask; “am I better than I was 6 months ago?”. In Category 2, however, other people (or society) constitute the baseline and we tend to ask; “oh look what she achieved; is she better than I am”?
I like to think both categories have their merit. It is tempting to argue that one needs only focus on Category 1 comparisons and completely steer clear of Category 2. That seems to be the ideal argument but the flaw with it is that we may not know some feats are possible if we don't look at others' achievements now and again. Even in evaluating our choices or life decisions, we may know, internally, the direction we want to travel in but be unclear about our exact destination. In such cases, it helps to look at people who have gone to (or are going to) that destination and check what we are missing out on. Are there important things I'm failing to consider? Can I use my time as optimally as he used his? What opportunities for improvements can I gain from her journey? As such, Category 2 comparisons have their merit.
Both categories are important. Focusing on Category 2 alone may make you feel miserable as there is always going to be someone with a more outstanding feat than yours out there. On the other hand, focusing on Category 1 comparisons alone may make you blind to some of the opportunities for growth and improvement that are available to you. As such, it is important to maintain some form of balance between the two. And therein lies a problem.
Our lives are structured such that we are served with more prompts to engage in Category 2 comparisons than Category 1. We see these prompts everywhere. A dude driving a flashy car. A woman making great strides in academia. Someone getting a new job. There are many more conjurable instances that prompt us to evaluate our lives using other people's achievements as the baseline. The achievers needn't explicitly say to you, "look at you, now look at us" but we nonetheless make these comparisons. On the other hand and in stark contrast, however, there is hardly anything that prompts us to make Category 1 comparisons. And even when we see such prompts, they're usually explicitly imploring us as a reminder to make said comparisons; "remember, you are only in competition with yourself”.
We are inundated with prompts to make Category 2 comparisons, no thanks to the internet and the reach it avails to everyone. Unless we consciously try to focus more on Category 1 comparisons, we'd find ourselves making only Category 2 comparisons, and that can make us feel utterly inadequate. In ten minutes, you can see ten different magnificent feats and if you are solely using those feats to measure how well you are doing, you'd likely feel miserable.
Have you ever asked yourself why we put our ages when we state certain achievements? "Two PhDs at 23". "CEO of a multinational organization at 25". It is because there are unspoken, acknowledged benchmarks that state whether or not we are doing a good job with our lives. We know when we are doing better than the mean and we like to make it clear to all that we are! These benchmarks are imprinted on us in our daily interactions with the world. And because we perceive events in sequence, we can anchor the awesomeness of our achievements to our age.
You can twist (or try to twist) gender and sex. You can alter many other variables in our human condition. But our ages are sacrosanct. If you've spent 50 years alive, you've spent 50 years alive. So we anchor our achievements to age—this one, universal characteristic. And we get rapturous applause when we launch a startup at 15 or break a world record aged 10 or own 15 luxury cars in our teens. I mean, the very fact that there is a Forbes 30 under 30 list is evidence that age is a pretty universal anchor. That said, I find it funny that the antithesis sometimes holds—a stellar achievement at a young age can be matched by a non-stellar achievement at an old age. "Man graduates from college at 80". That's the stuff of headlines, no?
And for the rest of us struggling souls that hover around the mean—yet to achieve the exceptional or unexceptional at our age—we are left with a bit less to brag about. Our lives are considered ordinary. We can't afford a high-end apartment. We can't afford the tuition fees for our school of choice. We can't tip the waiter every time. We can't spend so much time on YouTube lest we exceed our monthly mobile data budget. We can't pay for Uber rides so we hop on a bus. We can't fly first class so we settle for economy class. We can't settle for economy class so we take the train. We can't take the train so we sit at home. Ordinary. But is an ordinary life bad?
Well?
I do not think an ordinary life is bad. Most of us live ordinary lives, and that needn't mean that our lives are bad. That said, we are very likely to feel inadequate if our lives are ordinary because we are overwhelmed by unhealthy Category 2 comparisons. We see people who have more than we do and that can sink us drearily into despair. Furthermore, we've also been told from a young age that we can achieve anything we put our minds to. Ironically, most of the teachers who broached this realm of possibilities to us probably didn't put their minds to or dreamt of being teachers. Yet there they were boldly and confidently admonishing our young selves.
Also at the end of a school term or session, in our report cards, our teachers were required to leave a remark. And they would write—obviously hurriedly because they were underpaid and overworked—that we've put in a great shift; "The sky is your limit". It brought us so much joy and delight because it meant we were allowed to dream and we always enjoyed Career Day. At some point, however, someone phoned in from the sky—or sent a fax (the facts are unclear)—and communicated to all the teachers that the sky was saturated, and the limit of people it could hold had been reached. So our teachers held a joint session and unanimously decided to rephrase the comments on our report cards to "The sky is your starting point". Glorious. Do you mean I have the universe to myself to explore? It pleased us and boy did we dream of great things!
Now, years down the line, we're nowhere near the sky. If anything we are rooted to the ground. Jumping, now and again, hoping to fly but always crashing. But we see other people in said skies and beyond. They are doing great things. Wonderful things. Things we, perhaps, never even dreamed of. We make Category 2 comparisons. We believe they merit being in the sky on the sole account of their efforts. And consequently, we look at our pitiful wanting selves and are led to believe that we deserve to be rooted to the ground on the sole account of our efforts or lack thereof.
We believe that if he's at the top, it's because he merits it. Consequently, if she's at the bottom, it's because she deserves it. But if you've lived long enough, you'd realize that that's not always the case. Yes, people work hard and I’m not taking anything away from them. But if you've been at the top or bottom of anything, you'd realize that that's not a sufficient rationalization to make. You've seen people study hard for tests only to be wrongly graded for some obscene reason. Did they merit the poor grade? You've seen people more skilful than the footballers you see on TV never make it past the college team. You've seen potentially great athletes lose limbs to accidents. You've seen people with great voices not make it to the music industry. You've interacted with brilliant minds that would probably never get interviewed on TV or become best-selling authors. They get to lead ordinary lives but that doesn't mean they're inadequate!
So don't beat yourself up or give in to the misery that accompanies the knowledge that your life is ordinary. So what if you use a Toyota and not a Lamborghini? All things considered, our lives are much better in terms of access and comfort than they used to be 20 years ago. A few hundred years ago, only royalty could eat certain fruits e.g. pineapples because of the cost of importing them but look how affordable it is today. We needn't wait for the postman to return the response to a letter we sent to a friend a few weeks ago. We now get instant responses! You can read this letter as soon as it is sent to you, without the need for a publishing house or a distributor. In fact, your ordinary life may be quite exceptional!
Don't dwell too much on Category 2 comparisons. Don't consider yourself as "mediocre" when you see people slay dragons, meanwhile, you're still fearful of dainty acrobatic cockroaches. I think—and I encourage you to do the same—of mediocrity not in relation to Category 2 comparisons but with respect to Category 1 comparisons.
Say I started learning to play the guitar last month and I entered a music competition with my friend (let's call him Justice) who has been playing the guitar for years. Of course, he's going to deliver a much better performance than I would. Does that make me mediocre? I think not. He can play the guitar better than I can, and that's nothing to be upset about. What I should consider is if I can play better than I could a few weeks ago (Category 1). And rather than feel inadequate when I make Category 2 comparisons, I should ask myself (or Justice) what improvements I could make to improve my fingering skills and widen the gulf between where I was a few weeks ago and my current state.
People say mediocrity is living below your potential, but you know as well as I do that it takes more than potential and grit to achieve a thing. Cliché as it is, sometimes life happens. Our lots are different and we are all dealt different hands—some people are dealt with no hands at all! Sometimes we get lucky. Sometimes we are unfortunate. And the thing about luck is that it isn't a zero-sum commodity. That you've had unfortunate experiences doesn't mean the rest of your experiences will be fortunate. You may have unfortunate experiences all your life. Equally, you may have fortunate experiences all your life. They needn't necessarily balance each other out. Born with a silver spoon in your mouth and die a king. Born into hardship and died a debtor. You are not necessarily handed equal amounts of lucky and unlucky moments. It could be heavily skewed to one side. We can only but try and I believe that this knowledge is enough to keep us from making obscene Category 2 comparisons and having it bear heavily on our sense and estimation of self.
An ordinary life isn't bad and it doesn't make you mediocre. As I said, I consider mediocrity more like a Category 1 evaluation—a comparison with self. The following biting quote by Carl Jung helps put things in some perspective;
""People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own souls. They will practice Indian yoga and all its exercises, observe a strict regimen of diet, learn the literature of the whole world - all because they cannot get on with themselves and have not the slightest faith that anything useful could ever come out of their own souls. Thus the soul has gradually been turned into a Nazareth from which nothing good can come." -Carl Jung
That, I think, is what a mediocre is. Your life being ordinary doesn't make you mediocre. You can have an ordinary life and a great one too. And it's fine if you never make it to Forbes 30 under 30 lists. It's a list of 30 people for God's sake. My list is slightly longer than that and you are reading this because you're on it. And that makes you every bit as special to me as those 30 awesome people are to Forbes.
We are not mediocre, we who lead ordinary lives. Most of us would lead ordinary lives, and there is nothing miserable about that. In fact, one could argue that the fewer possessions one needs to feel happy, the more comfortable one is. Look inwardly at your soul, recognize your usefulness and continue pushing. Push for a better life even if it is a little life, dear friend.
Fin.
P.S:
I write you on the back of a slightly depressing yet fabulous read, and I can’t help but praise the writer's strength, courage, pen game and depth of thought. It is an article that touches on illness, suicide, suffering and the meaning of life. You'd recognize the cliché amongst the aforementioned themes but I promise you that you'd learn at least one new thing from the piece. Here it is: Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and the Meaning of Human Suffering
I hope it brings you as much thoughtfulness as it brought me. And if you’d like to see more postscripts in my letters, do let me know.
Thanks for reading! I’m delighted you made it here. If you liked this issue of Dear Bolu, you can sign up here so that new issues get sent directly to your inbox.
If you really liked it, do tell a friend about it.
Also, remember to leave a like or a comment!
Write you soon, merci !
- Wolemercy
“Our lots are different and we are all dealt different hands—some people are dealt with no hands at all!”
Loved this. Well done Wole!
Cockroaches >>Dragons🙂
Just read what was in your postscript and..I'm not even sure what to think. Maybe that's the point. More of 'em.