I’ve coined a phrase—and while it’s not as good as procrastibaking (baking when you should be doing a way more important thing OH LIKE WRITING YOUR MONDAY MORNING BLOG POST), it’s pretty good. Ready for it?

Vicarious vitality: living vicariously through people who are living decidedly livelier lives than yours.

Was that an audible wince I just heard? Have you been maybe living it up through others’ zesty lives lately, while yours has felt a tad zest-zapped? Maybe it was a wince I heard my own face make because I’ve been doing a solid bit of vicarious vitalicizing lately through friends who are living up a storm.

“Raise a glass for me!” I said to a friend who was going to a work party thing I was too tired (and lazy and introverted) to go to. I was quite happy to hunker down in my hotel room watching Shark Tank, while he joined a bunch of cool people from the conference we were attending. Somewhere between the energy-drink-for-cougars pitch and the portable-urinal-disguised-as-a-golf-club spiel (the sharks astutely rejected both), I started to wonder if maybe my best life was down at the bar with people who were not housed inside a TV screen. My evening officially jumped the vicarious-living shark (Shark Tank pun obnoxiously intended) when I muted the TV and spent several minutes zooming in on the photos my buddy had texted me—from twelve floors below at the soiree—pictures of exceedingly happy people with well-crafted cocktails in their hands, likely exchanging witty banter and LinkedIn QR codes. I was comfy and cozy in my pajama-clad hideout, but I had the sneaking suspicion I was watching the life I could’ve been living through a series of photos. Hmm. “Cheers!” I texted, ever-so jovial. “Keep sending pics!” I added. The subconscious thought bubble over my head read, “Keep showing me what I’m missing, so I can get a glimpse of what it might feel like to be a little more alive, out from under this duvet!” Then I put my mouthguard in and passed out.

So what’s the difference between being inspired by other people’s lives… and living vicariously through them while feeling chronically disappointed with your own couch-ridden life?

I suppose it’s the difference between having a nice amount of unoaked Chardonnay with dinner and that extra glass that makes you sloppy; the difference is sometimes granular.

We have to ask ourselves if we are being healthy and productive with our vicarious vitality, or if we’re living proxy-lives that leave us feeling cavernous and lacking in more than just a run-of-the-mill “I could be doing this life better” kind of way.

5 reasons it can be okay (for a while) to experience vicarious vitality:

#1. Brain science: it’s a thing.

Our brains are wired to simulate the experiences of others. Mirror neurons activate not only when we perform an action, but also when we observe someone else doing it. So when someone wins a race, posts a snazzy vacation photo, or achieves a jet-fuel-engine-dream, our brains light up almost as though we’re experiencing it ourselves. It’s the neurological basis for empathy… and vicarious thrills. Sounds okay to get a bit of a mirror neuron boost every now and then, right?

My friend Jessica consistently does fun and spontaneous things. I have never been accused of being spontaneous, and I like to imagine what it’s like to not live a “plan your work and work your plan” kind of life (so, I’d like to be 13% less pedantic and boring). Here’s a recent text exchange:

My first reaction upon reading Jessica’s quick-n-casual invite to come along on a random redeye to North Carolina: the fibers of my being were assaulted. A REDEYE? Why would I want to do something that OPENLY ACKNOWLEDGED would make my eyes red? My eyes are puffy enough as it is… I need less eye problems at 49, not more. And what about my nighttime routines and rituals? How could I apply my special eye cream and wear my giraffe print jammies beside some armrest-hog on an OVERNIGHT plane ride? What about my 8:45pm bedtime? The plane wouldn’t even start boarding until after 9pm I bet, and how is it the FAA even allows that?

My second reaction upon reading Jessica’s text sounded something like this: ohhhhh, this is what people who are alive do. Redeyes are part of the experience of being alive. Not for the sake of taking godforsaken overnight flights—as discussed, the FAA needs to curb these, pronto—but as a means to an end, like going somewhere fun for a 25-year reunion (no, better than that: A SLUMBER PARTY REUNION—a place I could actually wear my jammies). I was impressed with Jessica’s life and moxie. I was inspired. So I stayed up until 9pm that night! (Kidding. I’m not reckless.) Jessica regularly attends classes on cool topics and does horrifyingly fabulous things like ecstatic dance (I had to look it up, too: it’s “a freeform movement journey, held in a safe and sacred container, and facilitated by a professional DJ”—SO BECAUSE OF ALL THOSE WORDS THIS RHYTHM-CHALLENGED BITCH IS OUT) and forest bathing (I’ve got you: “immersing yourself in the atmosphere of the forest.”)

Per the image of our text exchange above, THIS ARACHNOPHOBIC BITCH WAS OUT). But my mirror neurons were all lit up and they will continue to be every time she sends me a text.

#2. Social comparison: it’s not all bad.

Blow the dust off your social science text books… remember Leon Festinger’s Social Comparison Theory? He pointed out the obvious postulated how we evaluate ourselves by comparison to others. Usually this is a recipe for happiness disaster, but living vicariously lets us “try on” someone else’s life for size without actually making the leap. It can affirm our choices, inspire self-improvement, and just be downright entertaining.

One major idea in Festinger’s theory is upward comparison, where we compare ourselves to people we perceive as “better off” or more successful. When we live vicariously through someone who is more active, adventurous, vibrant, and with way better hair, it can spark hope, inspiration, and a sense of possibility—especially if we’re constrained physically, emotionally, situationally… or if we are glued to the couch binge-watching Dying for Sex (because we all love Michelle Williams).

#3. Escapism and alternate-life fantasy fulfillment.

Reality can be limiting, stressful, and downright freaking boring. Vicarious living—through influencers, reality TV figures, fictional stories, sports and entertainment events, or zesty friends—lets us escape our daily grind and experience novelty, status, danger, and success in an oh-so-safe-and-risk-free setting. Imagining yourself competing on American Ninja Warrior, for example, or on the receiving end of a rose from a televised bachelor wearing a questionable amount of foundation… it can act as a kind of psychological vacation.

My friend Olivia recently said this on Instagram: “New mantra: Be a cat. Live 9 lives in this lifetime.” (Obviously I love this ethos… cats + living before our pending death = a quote worth saving.) Olivia was “on the dating apps” (is that how you say it?) for a while and even though I am so not hankering to Tinder up my life, it’s been 28 years since I’ve been on a first date so it’s fun to hear about the excitement/ calamity of first impressions. It’s also fun to hear her muse about cities to maybe move to, jobs to maybe take in her ascending academic career, and a life that’s waiting for her, ready to be rolled out like a red-carpet-welcome-mat of a Life Worth Living. I live vicariously through her life today and all that fizzy bundled up potential of tomorrow.

Watching others navigate high-energy, high-stakes experiences gives us a low-stakes window into their choices and consequences. We evaluate ourselves and our own preferences by observing them, without having to engage directly with daunting obstacle courses, for example. We can try on identities or lifestyles symbolically, satisfying curiosity from a safe psychological distance (without having to swipe left… or is it right?). Living vicariously offers the illusion of experience without side effects… it offers a psychological “risk-free trial” of alternative lives which may momentarily elevate our mood and motivation. I’m in, for the short-term.

#4. Unmet needs or regrets.

We sometimes project ourselves into others’ experiences when we feel something’s missing in our own lives. Regret is often tied to a perceived loss of possibility—things we didn’t do, chances we didn’t take… the coulda shoulda wouldas of life. When we see someone else doing what we didn’t (but wish we had), it can trigger regret, sure—and it can also allow for a redemptive form of witnessing.

You might regret not pursuing art, for example, and feel that complicated cocktail of both grief and quiet joy while watching a loved one thrive as a painter. Living vicariously provides a way to revisit the road not taken—to honor it, to imagine what might have been, and sometimes to find peace or beauty in watching it play out in someone else. (This assumes you don’t experience crippling, green-eyed-monster-fueled envy.)

Unmet needs—whether for adventure, connection, love, achievement, novelty, or eternal beauty + youth(!)—don’t always evaporate just because circumstances make them unreachable. Watching someone else live fully can activate those dormant longings, but also offer a kind of emotional satisfaction or proxy fulfillment.

Maybe you haven’t gotten to travel as much as you’d have liked… yet you could feel nourished watching a friend or influencer traipse around Thailand. You might feel a wee bit of “aliveness by association.”

My friend Capella is a solo-travel goddess. In a recent catch-up she declared without a hint of pretension that she was going to be hopping from one cruise to the next, only coming off cruise ships if she absolutely had to. (Because I am a good friend I said nothing about norovirus—a.k.a.: The Cruise Ship Shitz; a healthy dose of gastroenteritis would likely be the cause of a swift disembarkation.) She isn’t a gazillionaire… she’s just a gal who is making time to see the world while working off her laptop on various decks across various seas and various canals while eating at various all-you-can-eat shrimp stations. (I don’t actually know if there is unlimited shrimp on her cruises, but in my living-vicariously-through-Capella fantasy, there is high-quality, norovirus-free shrimp everywhere I turn, served on chilled silver platters. With ample horseradish-heavy cocktail sauce. Not that I’ve imagined this in fine detail.)

Andy keeping me and my book (and my espresso martini) company. (This is my natural habitat, FYI.)

The Husband and I haven’t been doing a lot of leisure travel lately, because our feline son Andy is 17 and he throws a hissy fit (literally haha) when we go away for more than 53 hours at a time. So because we are pussy-whipped (OH YES I DID JUST SAY THAT) we go away for two nights max and make sure we’re home in time to cajole the cat. I love a quick getaway! And I also miss longer trips that involve the use of a passport (*sigh*). So for now I live vicariously through Capella and imagine being on a shrimp boat beautiful cruise, typing these blog posts to you with a glamorous silk scarf protecting my hair from the wind—a scarf I don’t even own (yet).

Didn’t pursue a certain career? Watching someone else do it can be a bittersweet and temporarily satisfying substitute.

My friend Julie is completing an MFA and writing a cozy mystery novel (it’s okay; I didn’t know either: it’s “a subgenre of crime fiction that features a lighthearted, often humorous, and comforting mystery with minimal violence, explicit content, or profanity, often centered around an amateur sleuth in a small, close-knit community.” OBVIOUSLY WE WILL BUY ALL THE COPIES OF HER BOOK WHEN IT’S OUT BECAUSE COZY). I have always been curious about writing a fiction book (with maximal violence, explicit content, and profanity, haha), and I am living vicariously through Julie’s experience of learning in her program, coming up with crime-ey ideas, writing, writing even more, and re-writing. She’s giving me a portal to explore an “I’m a fiction writer” life I could maybe someday lead.

This “unmet needs” vicarious living phenomenon is especially common with parenting: some parents live indirectly through their kid’s accomplishments or ambitions. Maybe you didn’t go to college so you’re living it up through your daughter’s riveting spring semester syllabi and absurdly robust social life? That sounds reasonably fulfilling in the right amount, right?

#5. Surrogate social connection: like a vicarious hug.

When we live vicariously through someone’s breathlessly vibrant experiences—whether they’re traveling, throwing a surprise party for their hubby, creating a new macrame plant hanger, or overcoming adversity—we’re not just observing. We’re often emotionally co-experiencing their journey. This can deepen a sense of connection to that person, even if our roles are passive (like if we are scrolling through their Instagram feed in a non-stalkery way).

If someone is doing something bold or joyful, and we feel emotionally connected to them while they’re living high off the hog of life (I’ll likely never use that expression again), it can allow us to share in their vitality, helping us feel more alive ourselves—especially during periods of blah-stasis, grief, or physical limitation. Letting a friend know about this vicarious vitality (that we’re inspired by their forest bathing, for example, despite the spiders) can strengthen the bonds of your relationship.

There’s also something deeply relational in being a witness to another person’s vitality. When we truly engage with their life—not just envy it or consume it—we’re offering them a form of recognition, celebration, and emotional presence.

My friend Victoria is on a sabbatical in Tuscany right now and she texted that she is obsessed with it and dying to buy property there. I am living through her, almost tasting the pasta her kid is (distressingly) smearing all over her face in the videos.

Yay or nay to vicarious vitality?

Here is my take: dosis sola facit venenum. (The dose makes the poison.)

Living vicariously through others can be helpful and vitality-inducing in small doses, at the right times of life. It can give us a little mirror-neuron-high when we’re looking for a well-being boost. It can allow us to fantasize about different versions of our lives—lives we know we might never pursue but are just delicious to imagine. And it can help us conjure up the motivation to forge a bold path ahead, when we live for a moment through people doing things we are summoning up to courage to do, too. It can also serve to reinforce relationships, when we revel in the juicy lives our friends are leading and feel heart warmed that they get to enjoy all that juiciness.

Living through others can be healthy and enlivening when we are simultaneously living our own lives.

When we find ourselves living through others instead of living our own lives… that’s when we want to press the pause button. Feeling stuck, bored, scared, and lacking inspiration is normal. But when we’re feeling stuck, bored, scared, and lacking inspiration for too long… and living through our friends or kids or random social media influencers… let’s focus inwards. Let’s decide on one small step forward we can take to live Our Own Lives, and take that one small step, starting this very day. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed, but today seems pretty real.

Stop your procrastibaking and get on out there, okay Sparky? You’re not getting any younger (although you’re looking fabulous)… why not live a life that inspires others to live vicariously through you? Or how about you just live the life you want. Who cares about everyone else, Festinger!