Self Improvement goes too far when it never graciously accommodates with an off ramp or a least a rest area, without self judgment for accessing them . I just glanced over at my book shelf. Almost every book I own is a self improvement book of sorts. Just in the past couple of months I have ‘allowed’ myself to buy some fictional stories, which include some classics. I realized years ago in a University class when I didn’t have anything to add to a literature conversation, just how much I have lived tuck inside self help books. If I could just Master the art of having my emotions all in tack, and perhaps earn a degree “Master of Arts in Happiness” to hang on the wall, then I could put down the self-instruction books with the Four Steps to arrive at wholeness. Then, I could pick up a book to read simply for the amusement of it. That would make me happy. In my mind, the privilege of reading for pleasure is like having to do your chores before you can play. But the chores of self-improvement never get done. It’s like the job of stocking a grocery store shelf. It’s always, always needing to be restocked. The need for replenishment is a never-ending task. For me, self-improvement has gone too far when I am not permitting myself to read just for fun. The joy of reading without feeling the need to have a takeaway that helps me to level up, now that sounds nice. Truth be told, I haven’t cracked open any of my new fictional classic stories. But I bought them, and I keep thinking about when I will read them. So that is a step in the right direction of self-improvement. (wink)
When Does Self-Improvement Go Too Far?
Self Improvement goes too far when it never graciously accommodates with an off ramp or a least a rest area, without self judgment for accessing them . I just glanced over at my book shelf. Almost every book I own is a self improvement book of sorts. Just in the past couple of months I have ‘allowed’ myself to buy some fictional stories, which include some classics. I realized years ago in a University class when I didn’t have anything to add to a literature conversation, just how much I have lived tuck inside self help books. If I could just Master the art of having my emotions all in tack, and perhaps earn a degree “Master of Arts in Happiness” to hang on the wall, then I could put down the self-instruction books with the Four Steps to arrive at wholeness. Then, I could pick up a book to read simply for the amusement of it. That would make me happy. In my mind, the privilege of reading for pleasure is like having to do your chores before you can play. But the chores of self-improvement never get done. It’s like the job of stocking a grocery store shelf. It’s always, always needing to be restocked. The need for replenishment is a never-ending task. For me, self-improvement has gone too far when I am not permitting myself to read just for fun. The joy of reading without feeling the need to have a takeaway that helps me to level up, now that sounds nice. Truth be told, I haven’t cracked open any of my new fictional classic stories. But I bought them, and I keep thinking about when I will read them. So that is a step in the right direction of self-improvement. (wink)