Years ago, I was competing in ballroom dancing, at beginner level. Our team was all hot and ready. As we were about to step on the dance floor, our coach said,

“Remember, we’re Stanford, and they’re not.”

That turned me off.

First, I didn’t graduate from this university, I was just there to sneak in their dance classes. Second, I didn’t see why we would be superior in any way. The other teams, from other universities, probably worked their asses off just as much as we did.

Only years later, did I understand the true meaning of competition.

On the surface, this is an egocentric concept, in the mind, and not in the heart. It’s insecure, it’s about putting others down in order to feel higher than them. It’s about pride, which is easily knocked off its pedestal and then transforms into shame.

Animalistic competition, where males fight (or dance!) for a female, does nothing but reflect a mentality of scarcity, rather than abundance. Inevitably, this leads to neediness, the last thing a woman is attracted to. In such case, neither male deserves the honor to be with the female.

Even in the animal world, females are too smart to go for a guy whose only talent is just show off:

In reality, competition is just the opposite. Competitors are actually deeply connected. They are in love, with the same thing. Be it a sport, a dance, or companies fighting to build the most revolutionary product.

The love they have for their art is so enormous, so beautiful, so overwhelming, that they are pulling each other up. Even the losers finish better than what they were before entering the competition. They motivated each other to improve themselves, sometimes without even knowing it.

The result is a common effort towards excellence. That alone is worth competing for.