The Irony of Self-Help
I just ordered a new self-help book on Amazon that I’m sure will change my life. I’ve read a dozen books before this and have read a couple dozen more summaries to find out about the secret to success. After reading each book, I feel sate. I’ve done something productive — I tell myself. I’m growing as a person. I’ve learned about all the tools to optimize my work and be a better person. All I have to do now is just the work. But, how do I start? Guess what? There’s a book for that too.
Self-Help Books are Great. But...
Atomic Habits, The War of Art, How to get stuff done, Deep Work, Declutter your mind, the list goes on. There are books for every aspect of improving yourself. Want to learn how to talk to a stranger? How about Debra Fine’s ‘The fine art of small talk’? Want to care less about stuff? How about Mark Manson’s ‘The subtle art of not giving a f*ck’? Want to work like a warrior? How about David Goggins’ ‘Can’t hurt me’? Want to work like a monk? How about Cal Newport’s ‘Deep Work’? Want to live like a Stoic? How about Ryan Holiday’s ‘The Daily Stoic’?
These are all great books, don’t get me wrong. I’ve read them all and I’m sure they’ve taught me important lessons. But somehow I ended up using self-help books and YouTube videos…
