Self-Help Not the Turn On It Used to Be
I love self-help / psychology / productivity / “how-to-entertain-your-cat-while-juggling-refridgerators” kinda books. I get it from my dad. We’re all about improving ourselves. Discovering blogs like “43folders“, “The Simple Dollar” and “Happiness Project” made me pee my pants. I was all, “You mean there are thousands of other people out there who care about things like organization, personal finance, and getting.things.done (literally)?! OH.MAN.”
But lately, there’s been a shift. I’m reading creativety-based blogs. I’m participating in DreamLab. I’m thinking about things like “how can I express myself?” and “what’s the best way to capture this feeling?”. A little less advancement and a bit more self-care. So it’s no surprise that my trip to the library felt a bit meh today.
It wasn’t the library’s fault. If anything, they had a surplus of books that would normally catch my attention. It was kind of amazing how many I should’ve wanted to check out, but I didn’t. It felt shallow. I wandered around, reading jacket synopsis and table of contents. I grabbed two I thought I may like if this mood passed (Floor Sample and I Need Your Love, Is That True?) and another novel (Olive Kitteridge) even though I’m already working on Hemingway. I reassured myself that I’d find something worth my time.
And bam! Rework appeared on the New Books shelf. I felt like laughing. Here is a book that I’ve wanted to read enough to contemplate buying it and I’ve stumbled on it by accident. LOVE a good serendipitous moment.
Priorities and interests change. Today was just another example. Yesterday is where I’m coming from, today is where I’m going. Things transform in shifts and starts, but we grow just the same.