The pompous, the wealthy, and well, those just shy of royalty, we all stumble upon their lairs every once in awhile. Sometimes we just observe their affluence from the road in a solemn wonder, staring at the fruits of capitalism. In no way am I critical of the extravagancy these people enjoy, for the most part they earned their living and consequently elicit respect from my envious gaze. Living in the area we do, Chagrin Falls, upper-middle to upper class living hardly makes me bat an eye anymore, just a way of life. However, this past spring break I traveled to the epicenter of the one percent, ground zero of opulence, pinnacle of the american dream: Malibu, California. Mansions and Porsches that left me in envy here gave way to oceanside villas and Bugattis there. Hence, I found myself in a bit of a stupor driving down the Pacific Coast Highway getting passed by Ferraris with massive sprawls of gated estates and the pristine beaches competing for my attention. I sat there picking up my jaw from the floor so frequently my arms became sore. These people have, with no exaggeration, everything. Now I understand the implications of this claim: "Oh but I'm sure they are not truly happy", or "They could have depression". Surely their lives must lack some aspect that could help alleviate the sheer jealousy of those driving past the massive sprawls of their beachfront property. Yet, when I went for a stroll on the beaches, passing by the owners of these lavish palaces and fast cars, all of them had a vitality in their eyes that only a sense pure contentment could bring. These people possessed this incredible lack of worry and consternation to my sheer disbelief. However, where most find themselves cringing with jealousy, prying their perfection for a downfall, a kink in their armour, I found myself studying them, their mannerisms, the way they carry themselves. Yes, instead of envy my consciousness honed in on interest, instead of disgust I felt inspiration. The CEO’s, entrepreneurs, and inventors walking alongside me on this beach did in fact have it all. But, they took the same strides as I, they kicked up the sand the same way I did, their hair blew in the wind the same as mine. This parade of success on Zuma beach struck home a precious thought: these people are only human. Sure, I do not know their life story, how they acquired their profound achievement, but I do know that within myself awaits a lustful ambition much akin to what must reside within their own minds. The only thing standing in between my life at a desk job working a nine to five, and diving into an infinity pool overlooking the Pacific: the key to unlock the ambition stowed away within my mind, within all of our minds, and forge it into fruition. To find the key, one must simply find a motivation, an inspiration, and for me that rests within my memories of staring in awe at the vigor of the successful. Thus, I do not look back to the shores of Malibu with a passive longing for the lives of those I walked next to on that beach. But rather, I think back to that pristine shoreline confident that someday I will strut through that same sand which instilled in me inspiration, with a smile of contentment upon my face, knowing I made it. Does that sound a little overconfident? It might, but it not matter, for I have found the key, and the journey starts here.
I admire your selflessness in feeling minimal jealousy towards these people's extravagent lifestyles. I find myself enviously looking on at some people around me let alone the kind of fine living you experienced. I do, however, agree with you that jealousy acts as a wasteful action and be used more efficiently to harbor drive and determination. Studies have shown that daydreamers often succeed more often as the thoughts racing through their minds eventually traslate into progressive actions. Keep up your motivation, Elliot. It will get you far.
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