The Art of Earning Your Blessings

I am no stranger to the looming idea of something better.  That something better is always a tricky concept to grasp.  In fact, the search for that something better is a constant unattainable chase after an ideal.  It is unattainable, because by definition, there will always be something better.  Once you've reached to the end, you are no longer concerned with what is better, you now have the best.  It's a great thing to be inspired by the idea of something better to improve yourself towards your best potential.  But it can be a trap when you're enticed by the idea of something better, never realizing the value of what you have now.

I once had a teacher who reminded me in order to be happy with what you've got, you must be able to count your blessings.  He didn't just repeat the saying. He sat me down and actually had me list off all the things I felt fortunate about in my life, to remind me that even when we think our lives have taken a turn for the worse, we are certainly not yet at our worst.  And we should be grateful for what we've got.

There is actually a related adage, but I didn't make the connection between the two until more recently.  One of the things my mother reminded me often was: Easy come, easy go.  She often said it to me about my relationships; when I was caught in an infatuation, it was always quick and short-lived.  My mother often tried to warn me that when I just barely hit the surface of everything fantastic and idyllic, I hadn't yet hit beneath in establishing something real.  She was right, because when something comes in your life so easily, it could leave just as quickly.  This, I learned, applied to other things in life: easy money, hasty studying, or even just the cheap thrills of impulse buying.

When I think of the two sayings together, I realized achieving happiness involves an art of earning your blessings.  There is a delicate balance between appreciating what you are fortunate for, while remembering the value of your efforts to get there.  Nothing happens by accident.  Things can occur beyond your understanding, but life is in constant cause and effect.  And for most good things in life, there is a cost.  To me, a cost always involves work.  We either work hard for something, or we work out what we must give or take to get there. Magic doesn't just happen. We don't have fairy godmothers to plop what we want on our laps.  And that's why it's important to remember, in addition to feeling fortunate for what you have, understand that you can't just jump from one fortune to the next.  It always takes work, and that's why it's special.  Don't overlook your endeavors.

As for that lingering thought of what else is out there? Try to feel grateful for what we have in life, while also trying to remember to remain humble for what comes ahead.  We live in an amazing world. We have yet a lot to learn--but with all these opportunities we've got, we sure can be happy.

Diana's Formulae for Essays

Standard Pre-Write for following the listed algorithms:

1. Thesis: your main idea, which is basically what the issue is and what your special take on it is
2. Supporting reasons that pretty much says, these are the reasons why my thesis is a valid argument

3. Thesis and Support all tie in together to say ____.

Standard No-Fail Essay for University/College:

(1a) <Opening statement that doesn't reveal too much, but at least hints to what you will say> <Connecting opening statement to thesis, which may and should, possibly summarize to hint to us what you will be saying> <Clearly stated thesis: your argument stance on a general point>

(1b) <Statement which supports what your argument is> <Example/Excerpt that explains your supporting statement> <Explain it enough to relate> <Tie in together how the supporting statement was explained by example/excerpt in preferably one, but if you must, two sentences>

(2) <Tie in your last idea with this one> <Statement which supports what your argument is> <Example/Excerpt that explains your supporting statement> <Explain it enough to relate> <Tie in together how the supporting statement was explained by the example/excerpt in preferably one, but if you must, two sentences>

(3) Repeat 2 until page/character requirements fulfilled.

(4) <Introductory sentence leading into, or if you'd like, straight-to-the-point sentence summarizing how the first stated thesis tied in together the supporting statements> <Elaborate in a new way how they connect, and why it makes sense> <Possible hypothetical, but obvious rhetorical question or thought-provoking statement that ties together the thought completely, but may lead to an additional, yet related, thought>

Standard Comparative No-Fail Essay for University/College:

(1a) <Opening statement that doesn't reveal too much, but at least hints to what you will say> <Connecting opening statement to thesis which may and should, possibly summarize to hint to us what you will be saying> <Clearly stated thesis: your argument that x is related to y>

(1b) <Statement which supports what your argument is to explaining mainly X> <Example/Excerpt that explains your supporting statement> <Tie in together how the supporting statement was explained by example/excerpt in preferably one, but if you must, two sentences>

(2) <Tie in your last idea with this one> <Statement which supports what your argument is explaining mainly X> <Example/Excerpt that explains your supporting statement> <Explain it enough to relate> <Tie in together how the supporting statement was explained by the example/excerpt in preferably one, but if you must, two sentences>

(3) Repeat 2 until page/character requirements fulfilled appropriately half, or to whatever portion required evenly distributed to fulfill.

(4a) <Despite/Because these things...(or some other paraphrased way to refer the previous statements)> <Summarized reason why Y is pertinent, mainly focusing on what Y is>

(4b) <Statement which supports what your argument is to explaining mainly Y, if you'd like, allude to X but don't branch off into tangents> <Example/Excerpt that explains your supporting statement> <Explain it enough to relate> <Tie in together how the supporting statement was explained by example/excerpt in preferably one, but if you must, two sentences>

(5) <Tie in your last idea with this one> <Statement which supports what your argument is explaining mainly Y, again, if you'd like, allude to X but don't branch off into tangents> <Example/Excerpt that explains your supporting statement> <Explain it enough to relate> <Tie in together how the supporting statement was explained by the example/excerpt in preferably one, but if you must, two sentences>

(6) Repeat 5 until page/character requirements fulfilled appropriately half, or to whatever portion required evenly distributed to fulfill.

(7) <Introductory sentence leading into, or if you'd like, straight-to-the-point sentence summarizing how the first stated thesis tied in together X with Y> <Elaborate in a new way how they connect, and why it makes sense> <Explain it enough to relate> <Possible hypothetical, but obvious rhetorical question or thought-provoking statement that ties together the thought completely, but may lead to an additional, yet related, thought)

(Possible 8)? Dedicate 7 into main idea of X with Y, dedicate short 8 with what that means.

(Possible 9 to 10)? Dedicate 7 into main idea of X with Y through supporting statements of how you explained they all tied together.  Dedicate 8 and possible 9 with why that works with supporting statements. Dedicate 10 to summarize 8 and 9 with new thought provoking, possibly rhetorical question, to lead reader to further answers.

Something Short (argumentative), like the Essay Portion of the MCATs:
Argument X works over (alluded/implied) Y <defined>
(supporting statements of X)

Argument Y<defined, disputes Y>
(supporting statements)

Argument X and Y, because Z. (OR) New alternative Z, to X and Y.

Something to Keep it Short and Simple (KISS method)
Tell them what you're gonna tell them.
Tell them.
Tell them what you told them.

Up to you

I know that celebrities are usually the last people you should take relationship advice from, but a lot of times, I attribute Blake Shelton and Miranda Lambert for inspiring me.  When asked how they felt after tying the knot, one of them happily responded with something along the lines of: I married my best friend. It's gonna be fun.  It's so simple, but it makes so much sense.  As imminent as a promise like this is, doesn't it still involve our own choice?  So why not make it a good one, if you can?

When I think about where I am today, it occurs to me how many choices we end up making in our own lives as we live it.  And I should clarify, because I know that could be easily interpreted as believing we have much control over our lives.  But I don't think that we can control what happens necessarily, especially when things often happen beyond our control--and in most of those cases, unexpectedly so.  Instead, I think that we make many choices when we are able to in our lives.  And when things don't go our way, we are able to make our own choice in how we will react to it.

But sometimes the knowledge of our own abilities leads to a matching fear.  You see, I had been somewhat of a developing hoarder in my life.  Whether it was the collective junk I kept in my closet or the smorgasbord of "for just in case" items I kept in the trunk of my car, I had a cautionary mentality of "what if?"  What if I needed (this) later?  What if (something) came up and for (whatever) reason, (this) will be important?  What if I forgot, unless I could refer back to (this)?  While my habits grew to unusually high stacks of clutter, this train of thought isn't unusual; I think everyone worries this way to some level or another.  It's our inherent fear of our inability to respond to emergencies or surprises.  In one way or another, we fear how many options are available to us when we're given the choice.

But let's not forget: these special cases are literally defined as the deviant situation--they are far from the usual.  So, usually, we're fine.  We're actually a lot better off than we think.  So then in your own life, you're gradually presented with reasonable options.  I hate to cut the chase so quickly, but the point is: when it comes down to it, are you making the choices you want?  Are you happy with the choices you've made in your life?  

Someone once told me, "Bloom where you are planted."  Despite (though it could be in thanks to) where you are, live as who you are, and live out the best of who you can be.  So, grow on, my flowers.  Now is our time.

Love like Video Games

Like most girls, I've watched a lot of chick flicks growing up.  If that's not an obvious indication of what my idea of romance was, I can spell it out for you: I believed in fate, true love, destiny, happenstance, serendipity, soul mates, "the one."  This is not to assume that my ideal significant other was a close variation of Prince Charming.  But the way I imagined I would meet him would at least be magical.  If it didn't occur magically, then I thought a series of things would happen, leading to a distinct moment where one or both of us would realize we were meant for each other and a lot of running would be involved before a huge declaration of our love and foolishness would be released onto the public.  Ah, l'amour.

But love doesn't just happen.  Also, that crazy notion that two people just somehow meet, have a crazy attraction, act on a "spark" and are now entangled in each other's lives regardless of their stupidity is just ridiculous.  

Instead, I adapted a new philosophy.  And I was shown the way by playing a little bit of online co-op in a first person shooting known to some as Battlefield 3.  Video games are actually quite romantic.  I'm not limiting this to a specific game, but let me share an analogy with you.

Imagine your future goals.  As you're starting your life, would you like to go on easy, medium, or hard?  Well, this wouldn't matter if you were going to play solo.  Then you could do whatever you want.  But if you want to play co-op, consider a few things: first, would your partner feel as motivated to accomplish harder tasks as much as you; secondly, would your partner have what it takes to go through even the final stages with you this way; and lastly, what is it that you want? Would you be satisfied knowing that you tried your hardest together even if you didn't go far, or would you rather just keep it easy and feel content with enjoying what you get?

Consider the teamwork.  This is going to be the person who has your back, sometimes literally.  Do you trust this person to not only consider you, but be able to also consider his or herself equally in combat?  Together, are you stronger by working with both your strengths and weaknesses, or do you let differences get in the way?  Do you find yourselves fighting the same battles over and over, or can you get past them together?  Each person is unique in their own style and it really just boils down to how it matches up with you.  Sometimes it's as simple as that.

Play fair.  Remember, it takes two.  How you divvy that up is up to you.  Generally, the best way to go is equal share in roles.  Obviously, you can't simply split yourselves 50/50, but know that because you're working towards the same goals together as a team, you are ultimately sharing the same battles.  Just because you've got separate stats and equipment, it doesn't mean the decisions you make don't affect the other person somehow.  Now, some people are okay with picking up the slack of their partner.  But be honest: can you handle it?  If you're spending most of your time trying to bring back a man down, who's taking care of your job?  Even if you've got what it takes to take care of the both of youse, are you going to be happy with it? Or are you going to end up resenting your partner for holding you back?  Flip the scenario too.  Are you contributing to the team fairly? Or are you just reaping the points off of your partner?  

Communicate.  Considering the difficulties of what you take on together, the strengths and weaknesses of your team, and even what each person feels like the other is or is not contributing--could make or break what you've got together, but it depends on the communication.  If you're focused on your own target, how are you going to know that your partner needs help unless he or she can ask for it, and most importantly, can you understand the what, when, and how to be there?  If there's trouble headed at 5 o'clock, are you able to speak up or will you just confuse your partner, probably causing a messier, more involved melee combat when the problem attacks head on?  We all have problems.  But to handle issues together as a team, communication is key.

Things don't always work out.  Sometimes you can kind of tell you don't want to start anew with someone who's doomed to fail with you.  Sometimes you can't even tell until you've realized you both have started over again, and again, and for the last time.  But that's the thing.  This is our search.  We try to find the person who is willing to go through it all with us till the final battles.  We want the best ending to share with the person we've stood by all this time.  We want someone we can trust.  It is inevitable that we will get hurt.  There will be a point where we must rely on the other person to carry us through when maybe it wasn't possible to go through alone.  That's the true romance I've learned through video games.  Friendly fire is bad.  Lose the person who makes you out to be the enemy.  This person is supposed to be on your side.  Remember that.

Granted, it won't always be a pretty journey.  You can't always just kick back and let the magic happen.  Because it won't always be a movie, sometimes it's all in your control.  But then again, that's the fun part.  Don't ever forget that in the end, if you're doing it right, you should be having fun.  That is actually the main point of it all, isn't it?

The meaningless of meanings to mean what you meant

The ironic thing about tonight, is that I kept myself awake in bed trying to clear my mind of all the noises and thoughts that ran through my mind, only to find myself chasing after those same thoughts I that I had tried to chase away.  It just seemed like another one of those times when the things I want to escape from are only grasped tighter by my unrelenting fixation on needing to do so.

With every thought I tried to let go, I was troubled by its presence; why was it there, why did I care?  What meaning does it serve me--and then I was left alone simply by that thought, I wondered really, what is the meaning?

Better yet, what IS meaning?

I was troubled by my inability to give meaning to meaning itself.  The further I traced behind each word, the less specific I could get without redefining it by using yet another definition as reference.  That's because every word we use is useless without context.  The dictionary itself is proof to our need as humans to understand concepts based on agreeing what something means because of something else.  You see, we all must agree on antonyms and synonyms and the words assigned to them.  So, we cannot understand dark without light, and we have all agreed that using the word dark is for the concept of what we understand is "dark," and dark itself simply cannot be determined without also comparing it to what we agree is "light."  But the structure of the system of our language works fine.  No one seems to complain; as interesting as it is, it helps us communicate, and that's great.  Instead, what troubles me is how our language is only expressing (drum roll, please) what we mean. And it all paints a picture of relying on the OTHERS.

But what do we mean?  The word itself has a direction.  A means to an end.  You don't work towards a mean without a purpose.  And purpose is yet another mysteriously interpretive word.  It all really depends on what you want, what you see because of what your wants have driven you towards in life, and in the end, it all leads to what you've finally formed to believe from what life drove you towards.  But this is a long and arduous process which builds upon itself.  As a child, none of us really started out with our own set of ideals and expectations.  We just felt what we did, and understood what we felt.  Not what was defined for us.  When I first looked at the sky, I can assure you, I did not need to look it up in a book or some reference guide to tell me what the sky mean to me.  It just meant something... something indescribably vast, wonderful, and beautifully larger than me or life itself.  Did I need words then to describe what the sky needed to mean to me?

It seems like everything needs to be definite so that we may gloat to others.  But when we try to sound certain when we are actually... not, we panic and try find meaning instead in an available object.  In turn, we give these obvious things so much meaning that it becomes what defines us.  Example: How to describe me? Uh, well, I have this thing. This thing with meaning.  This meaning I adopt as me.  Flash forward this concept to materialistic items, be it purses and handbags or the numeric depiction of salary on a paycheck.

What if then, we return to the things that we couldn't just define or point to in order to say this is what I mean.  Let's not even work towards just the meaningful.  If we were to breakdown literally, something that is meaningful, the meaning is just up to an adequate amount.  You can't get fuller than full, you're full or less or beyond.  So what if we broke beyond definitions, beyond words?  Can we find what is so overflowing with meaning to us that we can't even contain it within the boundaries of language, so that then, it will always mean something to us regardless of what anyone else ever thought or began to tell you?

You know, don't you know?

There were a lot of things in life I was scared of.  Although--the past tense shouldn't fool you.  I am still scared of many things in life.  But to be more specific, when I was very young, I was scared of the dark and all lingering unknowns that lived in perfect hide-away spots.  I ran quickly away from mirrors after turning off the light when leaving a room, I made sure my feet did not dangle from the bed before falling asleep, and I most certainly stayed far away from the monster in the laundry room (whom I was certain ate half of my socks).

It wasn't long before I learned how to deal with my fear of what laid in the unknown.  It first began with stuffed animals.  I delegated my favorite few as protectors to border the edges of my bed, especially in the spaces my back faced.  I loved my stuffed animals, and I actually believed they could be aware of their surroundings, even if--and especially if--I was asleep.  I assumed then that they loved me too and would want to protect me without hesitation.  I slept soundly this way.

When I got older, though not much older, my fears began to grow with my imagination.  I needed glasses at quite a young age, and I remember beginning to fear that some monsters and ghosts could only be seen without glasses and some only with.  I also started wondering if portals could open by touch, like secret hallways opened by a booby-trapped bookshelf. So, I feared leaning back on walls at night, from the fear of mistakingly falling through another dimension.

But for every new fear my imagination created, my logic grew to beat it.  Though I was young, I suppose I was smart.  I noticed that in each singular phenomenon, the distress only came through times I had been unaware of something.  So I tried my best to stay well-informed in all situations.  I assured myself, if I ever had an inkling something was amiss, all I had to do was figure it out.  If I were wearing my glasses, I would simply look over the lenses to study what was in front of me.  I began to reason portals were only doorways; I'd touch with my fingers before allowing my whole self to fall through.  These responses may seem simple now, but when you're scared of something, anything can seem like the impossible.  But my fears didn't last long, because once I figured a way to deal with them, they only became a puzzle I learned the solution to.  And everyone knows that when you skip to the solutions at the end of a puzzle book, the answer would always be clear in every following time you faced the puzzle.  And nobody worries about the easy stuff.

So my fears today.  I still have them, though they don't come in imaginative shapes and forms.  Most of the time, they're still intangible concepts.  I fear failure, disapproval, and global warming. And most of the time, my fears freak me out to the point where it becomes hard for me to sleep.  Except now, there are no stuffed animals.  Just the people who love me, but sometimes my fears take me over so badly, I end up taking out my fears on them.  Now even worse, I've somehow become my own monster.  Though I often so badly just want the answer, many times I don't feel like I can figure it out.  So here I am, I'm scared.  I thought of this tonight: I'm still a scared person.

That's when I began to wonder, could this feeling of being scared be its own fear of the unknown?  Stepping back from the manifestations fear can take, fear itself is something humans simply do not know how to overcome completely.  Fear is constantly, and for eternity by definition, our belief that something is likely to be harmful or dangerous.  Maybe we can never completely overcome fear; it seems inconceivable to ever find evidence against something before it happens.  So until then, we are left wondering not knowing for when it--or if it--ever happens.  But instead, is there a way to control our fears, to know that it's okay to be scared, in order to keep it from controlling us?  Instead of running away from the things we fear inside ourselves, maybe the first thing we need to do is just to acknowledge exactly what it is that we are scared of.  And then, we can take on the task of finding the solution to the hurdles we face.  Not that it's easy but, you know... it can be less scary than you imagine.

In with the Old, In with the New

This isn't a newly created blog; in fact, I created this one last year to tuck away any postings I wrote purely on the impulse of emotion in secrecy.  My original intent in returning to this blog was nothing more complex than merely escaping my more recent collection of immaturely written "drunk" posts.  There were a few things I wrote on a more sober state that I liked from before, most of which I took with me here.  I cleaned up, or deleted--rather, the remaining meaningless posts on this blog here, and voila! Here we are.

But after doing so, I began to recognize a symbolic meaning behind switching between these blogs.  In my own life, I'm beginning to find more clarity, finally. But it didn't come from anywhere purely new.  

Many times, when we so badly want a change in our lives, the first inclination is to follow the adage, "Out with the old, in with the new."  While this strategy may work on a few situations we encounter in life, I find it to be a failed concept to apply on our own life.  I am speaking from personal experience, as a person who's jumped from one phase to another, never truly finding focus from any point.  It took a long time before I began to realize that as humans, we inevitably carry within us what we have experienced and learned.  There is no restart button, though sometimes we fool ourselves into thinking that there is one.  

So finally, on my search of who to be, what to do, where I should go... I compiled all the pieces from the past, from myself, and from my experiences, and I realized what I had been looking for all this time was nothing new.  I needed to live for myself, for what I had wanted all along.  But it wasn't easy.  It's hard to separate your own personal thoughts from the rest of society's.  It's inevitable; as humans, we are social creatures and are constantly learning from each other--whether these effects may be positive or not.  Sometimes we don't even notice these subtle changes, so it isn't easy to catch ourselves in each change that could shape our lives.  Even more so, it's hard to overcome layers and layers of others' thoughts over yours.  So I've been trying to strip it down to the basics of what I really want, rediscovering just what it is I'm meant to do.  Though it's nothing new, it almost feels like I'm starting over.  

I can sense, there are a lot of scary things ahead to come.  Change is scary.  But hopefully, with the comfort of knowing that I am returning to an old dream to move forward in my life, I can finally fulfill that meaning of success for what it means to me. 

How I Should Have Learned Math

An interesting perspective that I picked up from talking to my father this weekend during his visit, helps explain why I am bad at math.  But to be clear, this wasn't a lecture.  We talk things through in conversation, like two french beret wearing coffee drinkers (we don't actually look like that, but I imagine it to be so anyways).  So together, this was what we gathered:

If you think that you are a designated math person, and that is related to why you are incapable of writing well or understanding poetry well, you could be making a statement as inaccurate as I had when I denied any inherent math skills I've had as a supposed literature person.

I've assumed this dichotomy between my skills for reasons that seemed too obvious to question.  Throughout life, writing just seemed to come naturally to me.  Not that I think I'm necessarily awesome at writing; it's just that understanding words seemed easier to me than understanding numbers.  I wrote all the time. I was that kid in elementary school who wrote more than she was asked to, sometimes even asking for extra paper to continue writing.  I actually read during designated reading times instead of counting down the minutes till dismissal for lunch, and once I came home, I read as much as I could in my free time.  Up to this day, I will take any essay you send me and get lost in writing a 10 page commentary of revision notes for you without realizing how much time had passed since I started.

A weird phenomenon always seemed to occur when it came taking exams: the difference in grades I achieved between the two academic subjects were clear.  When it came to a class that required mathematical calculation, I would always do much worse than I expected--even after dedicating myself to a few all-nighters leading up to the test.  On the other hand, in any class that required essay writing in the exam, I'd ace the test without breaking a sweat.

Well, I thought through out the years, clearly, I am not a math person. But the breakthrough came when I stopped assuming what my faults were, and instead, started asking myself why was I at fault. I began to realize that I wasn't a faulty person, I am just a person who has faults.  The difference is in the limitations I set for myself; the former deems the limits inherent, and the latter implies I have the capability to break out of them.

For whatever reason, probably out of interest, I haven't put any limitations to my involvement in reading and writing.  If anything, I kept pushing myself harder over the years.  I told myself to read more books, harder books.  Write more, go beyond the minimum.  Within the collective hours, days and years I dedicated myself more in literature, the more I was actually putting my literacy into practice and expanding my skills.  I didn't realize it, but it all added up: the times I corrected my misspelling or incorrect grammar, or the times I looked up words I had read that I didn't understand, or even every time I wrote in my journal or rewrote my reports.  It is actually unfair to say that I was just a born natural, if you take into consideration all the practice I actually put in to get to the level I am at today.

While all that time flew by quickly as I had fun tinkering with words, the intimidation of numbers made every dreadful minute I spent with mathematical calculations seem longer and longer.  I did count the time I was forced to work on math, down to the very second, at times.  I stared at the clock often, feeling remorse for every minute spent on doing these stupid math problems.  As long as I did the homework, handed it in for completion, or passed the test just enough, I was satisfied.  The actual amount of work I put towards understanding arithmetical concepts was much less than literature, by far.  That was fine by me, I hated it.

The obvious connection towards being good at something and the amount of practice you put into training yourself--whatever the subject matter--didn't occur to me right away.  The idea slipped my mind especially as a kid who was satisfied with simple connections: I didn't do very well, so I must not good at it.  I don't have a fun time doing it, so I must hate it.

So, I learned math just enough to understand it, but I never actually did much math, to avoid it as much as possible.  But did I really, actually learn math sufficiently and in it's entirety?  Well, I'd sit through the lessons, read about the concepts in the textbooks, and then zip through homework problems without actually paying attention.  I should have realized that what I did was just as superficial and slight as if I were only reviewing the basic concepts of poems, just enough to point out different styles and varying structures, without actually dissecting each stanza for specific literary components or even trying to write a few myself. When a topic is just understood, without applying the concepts in practice, a key component in comprehending it is missing.  Our minds need to figuratively grasp what we learn, as we actually gasp it hands-on to make the connections to make the theory a reality.

I realized, this process is the same for nearly anything in life.  Whether we realize it or not, for the things we are better at, we were able to achieve it better in thanks to having more practice.  Sometimes correcting our mistakes will take more trial and error for some things than others will require, but getting to a point of proficiency will always require some amount of work.

Whether you think you like or hate something, you must know that you must DO IT before you can do it WELL.    The more you involve yourself into doing something, the more of it you are actually comprehending, and the more you are becoming proficient.  Only then can the skills come to represent a level of expertise.  Learning is an active process; you don't improve by simply being compliant.  Messing up doesn't equate to being inept--just keep going.  Keep on doing it.  I wish I could be more eloquent at this point, but really it just boils down to starting something, and just "doing it."  It's pretty cut and dry.  

Just do it, then do it well.

Not drunk, but possibly still insane

Jealousy. It's raiding your town! It's eating your children!! It's making you impossible to be friends with!!!  Won't anyone please just think of the children!?!?

The strange thing I've noticed about the Average Joe/Jane is that the Average can't be happy for you because they subconsciously fear that it would come at the expense of their own happiness.  There is also a common misconception within the Average, in which they believe that knocking down your happiness would give them the resources to build on their own happiness, and it should be done because the measure of their happiness should always be greater than yours.  But they're wrong. They're wrong and they don't realize it.

I'm no scientist, I've built no laboratory, but my studies have shown that humans can be happy for themselves and others.  People aren't machines.  They don't run out of happiness juice and sputter on roads, calling AAA for tow because they ran empty on happiness from using it on other people and can no longer move until someone else fills them back up again.  Well, thank goodness, because I don't think an insurance plan would cover it ("Oh I'm sorry sir, you're going to have to contribute a $20 co-pay for us to infuse happiness back into you from this donor here").

Analogies aside, jealousy is simply put, a damaging thing.  I mean, just take a good look at the definition of envy:

en•vy |ˈenvē|

noun ( pl. -vies)
a feeling of discontented or resentful longing aroused by someone else's possessions, qualities, or luck : she felt a twinge of envy for the people on board.• ( the envy of) a person or thing that inspires such a feeling : their national health service is the envy of many in Europe. 

verb ( -vies, -vied) [ trans. ]
desire to have a quality, possession, or other desirable attribute belonging to (someone else) : he envied people who did not have to work on weekends | [with two objs. ] I envy Jane her happiness.• desire for oneself (something possessed or enjoyed by another) : a lifestyle that most of us would envy. 

DERIVATIVES
envier |ˈenvēər| |ˈɛnviər| noun 

ORIGIN Middle English (also in the sense [hostility, enmity] ): from Old French envie (noun), envier (verb), from Latin invidia, from invidere ‘regard maliciously, grudge,’ from in- ‘into’ + videre ‘to see.’

Jealousy and envy aren't just from bitterly wanting or wishing for spiteful justice. Sometimes, the feeling just leaves you feeling dissatisfied or unhappy. The origin of the word itself comes from the sense of hostility, maliciousness--a feeling of wanting to do harm.  This is true, but why?  Are we all just so insecure with ourselves that we can't be certain of our own value without first comparing it by an arbitrary unit of measure (that we create by our own perception) of someone else?  And if so, why does the easy solution lead to lowering the value of that other person's life--why can't the easy answer just lead to redefining the measure with which you see your own life?

One of my favorite quotes has always been a simple, but true quote by Albert Camus:

But what is happiness except the simple harmony between a man and the life he leads?

Which leads me to believe that if you aren't happy, we could take this concept in reverse to put things back into perspective.

i.e. 

Are you unhappy because you're attempting to follow a life arbitrarily defined between yourself and the unknown external?

e.g.

• Are you updating your friends and family to keep in touch with your lives, or are you updating an intangible tier of recognition for achievements between yourselves?  Are you rushing, and if so, are you rushing because you're just really excited, or because it is imperative that they know?
• Will you only be proud of what you have or what you've done after you've announced it, after it had been acknowledged by others? 
• Who is reviewing your photo albums and check-ins, you or others?  Will you be content with the fact that you remembered the event and that your friends won't see every little detail of it, or did you want to be the first, and the most, and the best foodie, traveler, etc.?  Is this picture actually cool, or is it just proof that you were there?
• Are you contributing constructive criticism and evoking thought to help someone, or are these questions and statements hurtful, rubbing salt in their wounds, or even have some passive-aggressive implications?

How much do we even know about someone else's life? Isn't it all just based on what they tell us, anyways?  If we each have our own struggles, we have our own happiness.  Nobody should be able to take the importance of either away from us, and we shouldn't be taking any value of it away from each other.  Our lives are so complex, it's so difficult to compare each other one factor at a time.  So how's about we end the cycle and just be happy with our own lives, celebrate with others, and empathize as we are all members of the same human race?  We could respect what we do and do not know about each other, and not let it unnecessarily affect how we measure our own lives (or how we meddle in their's).