My truck-driver father and secretary mother, both hardworking people, seemed like failures to me because they were not doctors or lawyers like many of my grammar school classmates’ parents.
I was so wrong. It’s painful to think that your parents are losers. I hope to God they never knew my thoughts. I lived in a world of compare and despair. That world never ends well. I was never satisfied and always felt uneasy. Rabbi Abraham Twerski wrote 30 books about low self-esteem. I had a good case of it.
When it comes to money, I’ve never been rich nor poor. I have somehow always ridden in the middle of the pack — lucky to open the right door at the right time, do what was necessary to keep it open and have the sechel to keep expenses low.
When coins were part of our lives, I had a giant five-gallon water bottle I tossed loose change into. I went to Europe and Hawaii on what I amassed in a few years. That felt good because I saved it up myself.
Even now that I can afford DoorDash, I never order. I knew, young, that buying cars I could not afford, or other big-ticket items, never raised my sense of self. It had the reverse; it caused worry.
At 17, I moved to Manhattan from Forest Hills, Queens, and started my career as a comedian, where no matter what your parents did for a living or how many millions they had or who you knew, there was no leg up to becoming a comic. You lived and died on your God-given talent, the sweat of your brow, and millions of mistakes. Everyone was on equal footing. This was a feeling that was new to me. I loved it.
Jerry Seinfeld and I both lived in studio apartments, and our rents were under $150 a month. But you still had to get the $150. To make rent, I was a short-order cook. Jerry mowed lawns and was a waiter. Once I started paying the rent from my comedy earnings, a sense of satisfaction gripped me for the first time.
Pirkei Avot: Who is rich? He who is happy with his lot, “When you eat of the labor of your hands, you are praiseworthy, and all is well with you.”
If you’re happy with your lot and don’t compare yourself to others, you might be in possession of one of the rarest of all gifts, A Satisfied Mind. A few of my friends have become big stars and mega-rich. I’ve been asked whether it bothers me not to have achieved that level of success, to not have a TV show and the star on Hollywood Boulevard. I’d be lying if I said I would not like to have 400 million dollars in the bank and that success. But I am not consumed with the thought. I don’t feel less-than since I don’t have it.
What I am consumed with is helping God, being a better husband, father, grandfather, friend, performer and writer. Even when I come up short, there is the sense I’m trying. When most of these things are clicking, I hit gold and a satisfied mind. When I stopped trying to be Neil Simon or George Carlin and just looked at what is inside of me, I struck gold again. God doesn’t make junk.
I somehow understand that comparing my marriage or my kids to your marriage or your kids is a dead end. I am lucky because I have a marriage that works the way it does and I have children and spouses who get along and love each other and grandkids who bring me joy and naches. I have a career I love, a paycheck and a chance to keep growing.
I grew up with a mind that was always on the attack. It pains me when I see others that possess like what I had.
I need to tell you writing this was very hard for me. It took close to a week. But I didn’t give up. The reward for not giving up is a satisfied mind. Now go listen to the song “A Satisfied Mind” by Mahalia Jackson. She sings it better than I could ever say it.
Mark Schiff is a comedian, actor and writer and hosts, along with Danny Lobell, the “We Think It’s Funny” podcast. His new book is “Why Not? Lessons on Comedy, Courage and Chutzpah.”
