All That Sparkles Is Not Gold

Per my usual pedantic entries, I find myself writing again about the inner workings of the human psyche. I haven’t done exuberant amounts of formal training to hone my skill of reading people, but the more time I spend around others the more inclined I feel to attempt to figure them out. I didn’t choose to be this way, I didn’t actively search for ways to decode my friends, family or myself, but I find that as I am getting older the urge to dig deeper has yet to subside. Since it is perhaps too late to restart college (who wouldn’t want to though) I figure that my talents at this point are best spent writing about what I observe. No one wants to feel like they are friends with a psychologist – constantly being poked prodded and analyzed – but a writer? I think I can swing that mysterious edge I have going on.

So back to the point of my work. I already told you what I thought about the spotlight effect and how it actually affects all of us in one way or another. Well, loyal readers, I have a new one for you and this one is no joke. I’ve figured one of the greatest flaws of human nature. One that marketers, advertisers, matchmakers and especially Steve Jobs prey on when they attempt to attract and sell you the latest and greatest available. I present to you the shiny ball syndrome. Think about it for a minute, take a second, let it sink in. when you were a kid, did you not run around the playground chasing after bouncing balls aiming to grasp them and eventually become the keeper of the keys, the team captain, the coolest? Later on, those “balls” became your world of must-haves; the secrets to success. Once you caught a ball, or became inducted into the cool kids or chosen first for (insert elementary school game here) that feeling of pride just stuck. Like a crack addict, we’ve been trying to emulate that victorious feeling for the rest of our lives.

In high school, the elusive ball became a girl, boy or good grade, depending on your level of academic motivation or lack of. That’s when things started to get interesting. For some people there’s just one girl or boy that makes the chase worthwhile. If you’ve ever seen the movie “I Love You, Beth Cooper,” for one nerdy boy Beth Cooper shined brighter than any ball in Travolta’s “Saturday Night Fever.”

But I digress.

For a few, the shiny ball isn’t a person; it’s a feeling. It’s the feeling that we need to be chasing something or someone to validate our existence; to validate our social status. Basically, if you’re not trying for better than you’re just. Not. Good. Enough. And that my friends, is where I’ve been stuck like a girl in rapidly sinking quicksand.

Only lately did a friend tell me she thinks I have shiny ball syndrome. The subject changed as quickly as it was broached, partly because I didn’t know what that meant but mostly because I didn’t want to find out. Not from her, not from anyone. But alas, the notion stuck. Did I actually have what she claimed? Was I leading down a path of eternal unsatisfaction?

When I said it’s like a drug, I guess I wasn’t kidding. This kind of thinking sneaks up on you from a young age and just hangs there, feeding on every close encounter, growing with every boy left alone at the end of a date night while I jumped to something better.

It’s painful to say even now, but it’s something worth expressing in words. Nothing good ever came from internalizing and withholding the emotions. Even if it’s not the most desirable thing to read in the world, good journalism and blogging doesn’t come from simply giving the people what they want. Is it not the New York Times that touts their age old slogan, “all the news that’s fit to print?” delving into human nature, all good and bad of it, is not only fit to print, but it’s something I felt compelled to discuss. I had to get it out.