First thing in the morning, I check Twitter, only to have it list off for me all the ways I’ve already fallen behind. A colleague has released a new e-book. Two of my design heroes are announcing a collaborative project. One of my old college buddies has posted a video trailer for an upcoming online program, and she looks phenomenal, polished, charismatic (I’m still in bed, bleary-eyed, and definitely not at my most telegenic.)
每天早晨，我的第一件事就是刷推特，因?yàn)樗鼤?huì)顯示出來(lái)在哪些事情上我已經(jīng)落后了。比如：我的同事已經(jīng)發(fā)布了一本新電子書(shū)，我崇拜的兩個(gè)設(shè)計(jì)英雄聲明一起合作項(xiàng)目，我的一個(gè)大學(xué)朋友在網(wǎng)上發(fā)布了一段即將上映的節(jié)目的視頻預(yù)告片，她看起來(lái)美貌驚人、閃閃發(fā)亮、充滿魅力(而我還窩在床上，睡眼惺忪，肯定是不能上鏡的。)
Am I really falling behind? Is anybody actually keeping score? Did any of these people post any of the updates with the intent of making me feel bad? Of course not. But if I’m not careful, it’s terribly easy to view my social media streams as a constant reminder of all the stuff I’m not doing and dreams I’m not fulfilling.
那么，我確實(shí)落后了嗎?其他人一直都在取得成績(jī)嗎?這些人發(fā)布的任何狀態(tài)更新都是為了刺激我?當(dāng)然不是。但是如果我不是很細(xì)心的話，那么很容易覺(jué)得我的社交媒體流一直在提醒我沒(méi)有做的事情和沒(méi)有實(shí)現(xiàn)的夢(mèng)想。
This isn’t a social media problem. It’s a comparison problem. There isn’t a single thing about Twitter – or any of the other social media platforms I use – that’s designed to make me ask how I’m measuring up. That’s all me – an automatic, internal mechanism. It’s part ego (“But what does this say about me?”), part creative drive (“What more am I capable of?”), and part deep soul yearning (“How can I make an impact, leave a legacy, and matter?”).
這其實(shí)不是社交媒體的問(wèn)題，這是一個(gè)攀比的問(wèn)題。推特以及我使用的其他社交媒體平臺(tái)本身沒(méi)有任何問(wèn)題，它們的設(shè)計(jì)初衷本就不是讓我用來(lái)進(jìn)行自我估量的。這都是我的問(wèn)題——自動(dòng)的內(nèi)部機(jī)制。一部分出于自我因素(“但這說(shuō)到了我什么?”)，一部分出于創(chuàng)新驅(qū)動(dòng)(“我還可以做到更多嗎?”)，還有一部分出于內(nèi)心深處的吶喊(“我如何才能產(chǎn)生影響、留下遺產(chǎn)并發(fā)揮作用?”)。
And I know it’s not just me. I’ve spent the past year collaborating with leadership coach Tanya Geisler on researching how comparison works, what it costs us, and what it can teach us – and we’ve discovered that it runs rampant among just about every creative, growth-oriented person we know. In our comparison-soaked culture, it’s hard to avoid looking around at what other people are doing with their short time on earth, and slipping (often unconsciously) into “How am I stacking up?” mode. Here’s what we learned:
我知道不僅僅是我存在這樣的問(wèn)題。去年一年我都在跟領(lǐng)導(dǎo)學(xué)教練坦妮婭·蓋斯勒合作研究攀比是如何發(fā)生的，它會(huì)讓我們付出怎樣的代價(jià)以及它教會(huì)了我們什么。我們發(fā)現(xiàn)，攀比心在創(chuàng)新型、增長(zhǎng)型的人身上蔓延比較迅速。在我們這樣一個(gè)充滿攀比的文化中，很難避免去跟其他人比較究竟他們?cè)诙虝r(shí)間內(nèi)做了什么，然后不由自主地進(jìn)入“我怎么獲得”的模式。我們的研究結(jié)果如下：
Don’t compare your insides to someone else’s outsides
別拿自己的內(nèi)在和別人的外在來(lái)攀比
The first time I heard this excellent, if hard-to-implement, advice, I was suffering from a terrible case of envy. Some competitor or other had achieved an inspiring degree of success and I was complaining to a mentor about how unachievable it seemed to me. Her warning took me aback: Look, she told me, You have no idea what it took for them to get there. Don’t act like this was unearned, effortless, or pure dumb luck.And for Pete’s sake, don’t go thinking that because you read the press release, you have a single clue about what’s really going on behind the scenes.
我第一次聽(tīng)到這個(gè)優(yōu)秀的、但卻難以實(shí)施的建議時(shí)，我剛好在經(jīng)受一種可怕的嫉妒。當(dāng)看到一些競(jìng)爭(zhēng)對(duì)手或其他人取得了令人歡欣鼓舞的成功時(shí)，我就向?qū)煴г乖谖铱磥?lái)是如何無(wú)法實(shí)現(xiàn)的。她的警告使我十分驚訝：看，她告訴我，你并不知道他們?yōu)楂@得成功付出了什么。不要總覺(jué)得這是不勞而獲、毫不費(fèi)力的，或者純粹的狗屎運(yùn)。不要再那樣想了，因?yàn)槟阋豢催@個(gè)消息的時(shí)候，你就只想到了一點(diǎn)，而不會(huì)考慮到他們背后發(fā)生了什么。
She was absolutely right. I knew better, yet in the moment that I’d heard the news, I fell prey to reactive thinking and over-simplification. Because it’s much easier to look at someone “up there” and envy what they’ve got than it is to ask the tougher questions:
她是絕對(duì)正確的。我其實(shí)知道，然而在聽(tīng)到消息的那一刻，我卻成了反動(dòng)思考和過(guò)于簡(jiǎn)單化的犧牲品。因?yàn)榭吹絼e人達(dá)到目標(biāo)、嫉妒他們所取得的成功時(shí)，更容易做出這樣的反應(yīng)，而不是反問(wèn)自己一些問(wèn)題
每天早晨，我的第一件事就是刷推特，因?yàn)樗鼤?huì)顯示出來(lái)在哪些事情上我已經(jīng)落后了。比如：我的同事已經(jīng)發(fā)布了一本新電子書(shū)，我崇拜的兩個(gè)設(shè)計(jì)英雄聲明一起合作項(xiàng)目，我的一個(gè)大學(xué)朋友在網(wǎng)上發(fā)布了一段即將上映的節(jié)目的視頻預(yù)告片，她看起來(lái)美貌驚人、閃閃發(fā)亮、充滿魅力(而我還窩在床上，睡眼惺忪，肯定是不能上鏡的。)
Am I really falling behind? Is anybody actually keeping score? Did any of these people post any of the updates with the intent of making me feel bad? Of course not. But if I’m not careful, it’s terribly easy to view my social media streams as a constant reminder of all the stuff I’m not doing and dreams I’m not fulfilling.
那么，我確實(shí)落后了嗎?其他人一直都在取得成績(jī)嗎?這些人發(fā)布的任何狀態(tài)更新都是為了刺激我?當(dāng)然不是。但是如果我不是很細(xì)心的話，那么很容易覺(jué)得我的社交媒體流一直在提醒我沒(méi)有做的事情和沒(méi)有實(shí)現(xiàn)的夢(mèng)想。
This isn’t a social media problem. It’s a comparison problem. There isn’t a single thing about Twitter – or any of the other social media platforms I use – that’s designed to make me ask how I’m measuring up. That’s all me – an automatic, internal mechanism. It’s part ego (“But what does this say about me?”), part creative drive (“What more am I capable of?”), and part deep soul yearning (“How can I make an impact, leave a legacy, and matter?”).
這其實(shí)不是社交媒體的問(wèn)題，這是一個(gè)攀比的問(wèn)題。推特以及我使用的其他社交媒體平臺(tái)本身沒(méi)有任何問(wèn)題，它們的設(shè)計(jì)初衷本就不是讓我用來(lái)進(jìn)行自我估量的。這都是我的問(wèn)題——自動(dòng)的內(nèi)部機(jī)制。一部分出于自我因素(“但這說(shuō)到了我什么?”)，一部分出于創(chuàng)新驅(qū)動(dòng)(“我還可以做到更多嗎?”)，還有一部分出于內(nèi)心深處的吶喊(“我如何才能產(chǎn)生影響、留下遺產(chǎn)并發(fā)揮作用?”)。
And I know it’s not just me. I’ve spent the past year collaborating with leadership coach Tanya Geisler on researching how comparison works, what it costs us, and what it can teach us – and we’ve discovered that it runs rampant among just about every creative, growth-oriented person we know. In our comparison-soaked culture, it’s hard to avoid looking around at what other people are doing with their short time on earth, and slipping (often unconsciously) into “How am I stacking up?” mode. Here’s what we learned:
我知道不僅僅是我存在這樣的問(wèn)題。去年一年我都在跟領(lǐng)導(dǎo)學(xué)教練坦妮婭·蓋斯勒合作研究攀比是如何發(fā)生的，它會(huì)讓我們付出怎樣的代價(jià)以及它教會(huì)了我們什么。我們發(fā)現(xiàn)，攀比心在創(chuàng)新型、增長(zhǎng)型的人身上蔓延比較迅速。在我們這樣一個(gè)充滿攀比的文化中，很難避免去跟其他人比較究竟他們?cè)诙虝r(shí)間內(nèi)做了什么，然后不由自主地進(jìn)入“我怎么獲得”的模式。我們的研究結(jié)果如下：
Don’t compare your insides to someone else’s outsides
別拿自己的內(nèi)在和別人的外在來(lái)攀比
The first time I heard this excellent, if hard-to-implement, advice, I was suffering from a terrible case of envy. Some competitor or other had achieved an inspiring degree of success and I was complaining to a mentor about how unachievable it seemed to me. Her warning took me aback: Look, she told me, You have no idea what it took for them to get there. Don’t act like this was unearned, effortless, or pure dumb luck.And for Pete’s sake, don’t go thinking that because you read the press release, you have a single clue about what’s really going on behind the scenes.
我第一次聽(tīng)到這個(gè)優(yōu)秀的、但卻難以實(shí)施的建議時(shí)，我剛好在經(jīng)受一種可怕的嫉妒。當(dāng)看到一些競(jìng)爭(zhēng)對(duì)手或其他人取得了令人歡欣鼓舞的成功時(shí)，我就向?qū)煴г乖谖铱磥?lái)是如何無(wú)法實(shí)現(xiàn)的。她的警告使我十分驚訝：看，她告訴我，你并不知道他們?yōu)楂@得成功付出了什么。不要總覺(jué)得這是不勞而獲、毫不費(fèi)力的，或者純粹的狗屎運(yùn)。不要再那樣想了，因?yàn)槟阋豢催@個(gè)消息的時(shí)候，你就只想到了一點(diǎn)，而不會(huì)考慮到他們背后發(fā)生了什么。
She was absolutely right. I knew better, yet in the moment that I’d heard the news, I fell prey to reactive thinking and over-simplification. Because it’s much easier to look at someone “up there” and envy what they’ve got than it is to ask the tougher questions:
她是絕對(duì)正確的。我其實(shí)知道，然而在聽(tīng)到消息的那一刻，我卻成了反動(dòng)思考和過(guò)于簡(jiǎn)單化的犧牲品。因?yàn)榭吹絼e人達(dá)到目標(biāo)、嫉妒他們所取得的成功時(shí)，更容易做出這樣的反應(yīng)，而不是反問(wèn)自己一些問(wèn)題