A Self-Help Book Changed How I Think About The End of the World

There was a reason I started reading self-help books in my early 30s, and it wasn’t to get rich or become more productive. Get ready:

I was curious.

Curiosity is a good thing, and if we’re going to encourage critical thinking then we have to read things we don’t like, or things we’re skeptical toward. So, I finally wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Was there the slightest chance I could learn something about the world, not by gulping down self-help ideology, but reading these books from a critical perspective?

Most self-help books are garbage that recycle the same cliches over and over, but one part of a book stayed with me. As we enter the age of fire and brimstone, my mind keeps returning to this book. It’s not Tony Robbins. It’s not Rhonda Byrne. It’s not Napolean Hill. It’s not Norman Vincent Peale. It’s not Joel Osteen. It’s not Brene Brown. It’s not Angela Duckworth. It’s not Carol Dweck. It’s not Timothy Ferris. It’s not Ryan Holiday. It’s not even Brianna Wiest.

You don’t have to read it.

Just listen.