Professional ball players might get paid too much, but if you can’t throw strikes, you’ll be sent down the minors pretty quickly. Not so with entertainment. If somebody up there likes you, they’ll make the strike zone fit whatever you’re chucking down the pike. Your only talent could be in getting people to believe you have talent.

It can all lead to a bitter taste in the mouth, and I was reminded of this feeling on two occasions recently. My stories involved genuinely talented people, but certainly no more talented than I, and I was struck by how much their successes brought me to feelings of jealousy and frustration.

In one case, I was acting opposite a part I thought I should have had, and in the other, I read of a friend’s deal to make a film. In a visible business like acting, it can all feel magnified. You often have to watch it glide by on the side of a bus or on the cover of a magazine, or, in fact, unfold right before your eyes. It’s like somebody is having sex with your partner in front of you, and it can feel awful.

Jealousy is one of the sharper thorns to ever poke our sides. Somebody else has something we want, and it sticks in our craw. But until we figure out how to be happy with ourselves, it will forever plague us. For there is always somebody else’s something that we’ll crave. There’s always another missed part, and another friend’s film.

The practice, as always, is awareness, but it’s time to deepen the practice. The awareness only ebbs the tide so much. It’s time to practice genuine happiness for the successes of others, as unnatural an impulse as it can sometimes feel.

So to the two people whose lives I briefly wanted to have, let me say this: congratulations on all your success thus far. More than that, I hope it brings you peace of mind.

I know it’s helping me.

For the Mineralava Musings, this is Edoardo Ballerini.

Most people will acknowledge that the acting profession is more difficult than most, but most actors fall for the seductive trap that the profession itself is a means to salvation, that a life in the spotlight will be free of all ills.  The truth is that all the money and small statuettes in the world will not bring happiness.  If they did, the people on top of the profession would be dancing in the streets instead of endlessly complaining about their agents and drinking alcohol as fast as its being produced.

Perhaps it was from the sheer exhaustion of repeated disappointment, but I believe I’ve come to embrace Right View.  I still feel the erotic tingle of false expectation every time I get close to a part or a paycheck, but a steady diet of seeing things as they are has served me well.

And so the eight day journey begins.  Tomorrow I’ll look at Right Intention.  Things might get trickier…

The commercialization of consciousness is a hazardous trend.  It will make it harder to find honest gurus.  Not only will their voices get drowned out in cacophonous turf wars, but it discards a basic tenet of the Buddhist path, that teachings should be offered for free, and that benefaction should be up to the student.  Most places I practice either ask nothing other than what you’re willing to give, or as little as possible in order to keep the lights on.  As a friend of mine put it, “The measure of whether somebody cares about your well-being is whether they would offer their services for nothing.  If they wouldn’t, then it’s about them, not you.”

In truth, my journey to the practice of mindfulness started with commercial introductions.  When I decided my days and ways had to change, I turned to the most visible self-help sources on the block, people like Dale Carnegie, Tony Robbins and Deepak Chopra.  I took what I liked, followed their suggestions to keep searching, and eventually made my way to the study of Buddhism, where I’ve not only saved a fortune, but have undergone a greater transformation in nine months than I had in nine years.

What concerns me most is that mindfulness will be corrupted into something that requires the practitioner get stuck in some vicious cycle of “see you next week” therapy.  Psychologists seem to have an eye on their future and have begun bringing mindfulness into their fold.  Courses and books on the intersection of the two practices are popping up everywhere.  (I will be attending one such class this week.  Yes, I’m curious.)  But the pursuit of happiness should not be a commercial enterprise.  As soon as it becomes such, it will require unhappiness be a constant undercurrent.  It’s the only way to ensure repeat business.

This trend will disappear, of course, replaced by another latest and greatest way to fix you in ten easy steps.  Thankfully the practice of mindfulness, dating back some 2,500 years, will not disappear.  So if you’ve got an inclination to look into it, may I suggest caution with the source dispensing the teachings.  By all means start with the commercial.  Just… be mindful.

Perhaps it can be your first act.

For the Mineralava Musings, this is Edoardo Ballerini.

The year came with its share of hardships and obstacles.  The Buddha teaches us that suffering is inevitable, and damned if he wasn’t right.  But there is the inevitable, and there is the self-imposed.  We make choices.  Choices about how we live, who we spend our time with, the activities of the day.  And we have the ability to make changes.  If a person doesn’t fit our life, we can move on.  If a job doesn’t suit our ethics, we can find another.  If we can’t get through the day without pain in extremis, we can work towards our happiness.

I’m a little sad to see the year come to a close.  It was tremendous.  I learned more about life, love, and myself, than I had in the previous ten.  But it’s time to move on to the next phase, whatever that may bring.  For now, I return to this simple idea: don’t stop making massive changes.  Be mindful of others, be kind, but don’t stop making massive changes.

As Shakespeare reminds us:

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Let us embrace them all…

I bear the scars of these experiences.  It is still difficult for me to give gifts, and celebrations feel like the stuff of science fiction.  My meditative practice has helped turn this around.  (Truth be told, my meditative practice has helped turn everything negative in my life around.  I have no idea how or why it works, but it does, and I highly recommend finding a guru or a center as soon as possible.  Consider it a gift to yourself.)

My feelings about the season have not changed all that much.  I still believe it produces great unhappiness and feelings of deep inadequacy in too many people.  And I still fail to understand how turning a page on the calendar should align with activities of the mind, but I’m only certain of my general ignorance so I won’t press the point too hard.

There is an alternative, however, and here is my proposal: Give gifts when you want to, to people you want to, because you want to.  Decide that late May is the most wonderful time of the year and spread joy then.  Donate your time or goods to charity in August.  In other words, practice compassion and generosity when you decide, not when a commercial screams at you that your happiness is available to you if only you’ll purchase something NOW.

I don’t meant to disparage those who enjoy the holidays.  I recognize the magic and power of tradition, and the art of the collective.  That we all shutter our doors at the same time has a distinct value, it’s true.  But perhaps these virtues can be extended throughout the year, when we choose, not when we’re told?

Just a thought…

For the Mineralava Musings, this is Edoardo Ballerini.