I once spent a year obsessed with another writer's success. Envy whispered in my ear, "You should have what she has and right now." I was aghast at my obsession, especially given that I didn't particularly like her book, and yet envy wouldn't go away. It was (almost) comical how each time a fresh wave of envy broke over me, there she would be, her name in an email, her book dropping out of a bookshelf at my feet, an invitation to be on a panel with her in my PO Box. Instead of trying to block out the envy as simply something bad, sinful, or shameful I went deeper for a change.

I sat with envy, probing it, turning it over, trying to get at the heart of what was so important to me about this writer or her work. What I slowly (oh, how slowly) discovered: I was envious of the support system she had created while I was stuck in a pattern of doing everything all by my lonesome. What I wanted was to collaborate creatively with others. Zap! Almost overnight, my envy shrunk and my passion for new ventures ignited.

Envy's favorite phrase is, "If only." If you have a present case of "If only," give your "if onlys" some air time. Make a list. If I only had that job, her buns, his house, then I would be powerful, sexy, happy.

Using your list, ask yourself the question spiritual teacher and best-selling author Oriah Mountain Dreamer teaches. "It doesn't really interest me if I have (insert one of your