When You Feel Intimidated
- Elisheva Liss
- Jun 17
- 3 min read
Note: This was originally posted as a schoozeletter Parsha email for subscribers in 2022:
Have you ever heard yourself or someone else say something like this:
"Oh she's such a genius- I hate her."
"He's so successful- I can't be around him."
"They're so good- it's intimidating."
It's interesting how so many of us can sometimes feel uncomfortable when witnessing the talents, good fortune, or accomplishments of others.
It's like it somehow becomes an accusation of all that we're not.
On the other hand, I'm guessing you've also heard yourself or others comment thusly (hm.. I never say "thusly" and I'm pretty sure this the first time I've written it.):
"She's brilliant- I learn so much from her."
"He's so successful- it's incredible to see what's he's achieved."
"They're so kind- they inspire me to do more volunteering."
Sometimes, observing the greatness of others can be uplifting or motivating.
There are different variables to when, how, and why these different stimuli elicit different responses in us. But ultimately, it usually comes back to our internal emotional positioning at the moment of exposure, and the stories we tell ourselves about what we're seeing and how we relate to them.
"She's so smart. Which makes me feel dumb."
vs.
"She's so smart- I love to listen to her share her ideas." Or: "It makes me want to read more."
"He's so successful; I feel like a loser."
vs.
"He's so successful- good for him. I wonder if there's anything I can learn and apply to my goals, from seeing what he's been able to do."
"They're so good, it makes me feel lazy and selfish."
vs.
"They're so good- it reminds me how much I admire kindness and want to keep it on my radar as a value and a priority."
Comparison is not always the "thief of joy"- sometimes it can be a motivator and bar-raiser.
One way to think about life is as a series of stories in which we are each the first person narrator voice.
We're not in control of all the plot lines or the other characters' stories or dialogues, but we do create much of our own part, and our insights, moods, and language provide the backdrop and tone of our version.
If we default to seeing others as threats or competition, our life stories become fraught with pressure, self-criticism, and insecurity.
But if we try to see others' stories as opportunities to connect with, appreciate, learn from, or give to, then our life stories become enriched with personal growth, deeper relationships, and possibilities.
It all comes back to how we write the story.
This is the primary basis of narrative therapy.
In this week's Torah portion, Moses/ Moshe sends the spies from the desert into Israel.
When they return, they talk about the land and its inhabitants: how big and strong the people and their cities are, how gigantic even the fruit is.
The initial reports are not only not inherently slanderous, but factual, and actually could be seen as complimentary:
"This is a rich and strong land where people thrive." It's a very good land.
Yet it soon became clear that the story was being slanted into a disempowering agenda:
"This land eats its citizens. They will see us as grasshoppers. We'll never be able to succeed here."
When we see ourselves as grasshoppers through their eyes, that's how we see ourselves.
And G-d was upset, because He doesn't want us to be discouraged.
He doesn't want us to feel inferior and tell ourselves stories of predetermined defeat.
The plan is to feel empowered, emboldened.
The promised land, and any uncharted territory, could be viewed as scary and dangerous, or as lush and beautiful and nourishing.
There will be obstacles and challenges because that is part of every story.
But we can narrate our characters as the protagonists who navigate the difficulties - sometimes succeeding, sometimes regrouping, but always persevering, maintaining faith in ourselves, others, and G-d, and hope for the future.
Even and especially when the ride gets bumpy.
Note: This was written several years ago, but republishing it now, I want to add that the Talmud says that there are certain gifts that are acquired through suffering, and the land of Israel is one of them. We are certainly feeling that right now. As a Jew whose body currently resides in the US, I feel inadequate to comment much on this, other than to express gratitude to my sisters and brothers representing the nation of Israel in the holy land of Israel, and especially those serving or who've served in the IDF and their families. May G-d protect you and us all and resolve these wars swiftly and victoriously.
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