Choose an Absorbing Life Over Self-Improvement
Stop trying to be a better person; focus instead on leading a more absorbing life. — Oliver Burkeman
—What lingers after this line?
One-minute reflection
Why might this line matter today, not tomorrow?
A Provocation Against Endless Self-Upgrade
Oliver Burkeman’s line challenges a familiar modern reflex: treating life as a perpetual improvement project. The phrase “stop trying” is not an argument for apathy so much as a critique of the anxious, never-finished pursuit of being “better,” where each new habit, optimization plan, or moral resolution becomes another yardstick for inadequacy. From the start, he redirects attention away from the scoreboard of personal refinement and toward the felt texture of living. In that shift, the question changes from “Am I improving fast enough?” to “Am I actually engaged with what matters to me?”—a move that sets up the deeper contrast between performative progress and genuine participation in life.
The Trap of Self-Improvement as Self-Preoccupation
Once self-betterment becomes central, it can quietly turn into self-preoccupation. Even admirable aims—be kinder, more disciplined, more enlightened—can keep attention locked on the self as an object to be managed, measured, and corrected. Burkeman’s wording implies that this inward loop often drains the very vitality it promises, replacing aliveness with constant monitoring. This echoes themes from Stoic thought: Epictetus’ *Enchiridion* (c. 125 AD) distinguishes what is within our control from what isn’t, warning against expending energy on the wrong targets. Similarly, Burkeman suggests that obsessing over one’s “better-person” status can become a misdirected effort, crowding out the outward-facing commitments where character is formed indirectly.
What an “Absorbing Life” Actually Means
An “absorbing life” points to sustained involvement—work, relationships, craft, service, study, play—where attention is captured by something beyond self-scrutiny. Rather than polishing the self in isolation, you become immersed in projects and people that pull you into presence. The absorption Burkeman gestures at is less about thrill-seeking and more about being claimed by meaningful demands. In a practical sense, this might look like committing to a community theater production, caring for a family member, building a small business, learning a language for the joy of it, or doing volunteer work that exposes you to real needs. The common thread is that you are not primarily evaluating yourself; you are participating.
Flow, Attention, and the Experience of Full Engagement
Psychology offers a complementary lens through the concept of “flow,” where deep focus and challenge meet, producing a sense of energized absorption. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s *Flow* (1990) describes how well-being often arises not from self-analysis but from structured immersion in demanding, worthwhile activities. Burkeman’s advice aligns with this: absorption is an attentional stance that reduces rumination by redirecting consciousness into the task and its stakes. Importantly, the goal is not constant bliss but a richer contact with reality. As attention is reclaimed from internal judgment, a person may feel less “improved” on paper yet more awake, more anchored, and more capable of sustained commitment—qualities that resemble moral growth without requiring it as a project.
Ethics by Side Effect: Becoming Better Indirectly
The quote does not deny ethics; it questions the direct approach. Often, people become more patient, generous, or courageous as a byproduct of taking on responsibilities and relationships that require those traits. Aristotle’s *Nicomachean Ethics* (4th century BC) famously frames virtue as something cultivated through practice and habit, formed in the midst of actions rather than perfected through abstract self-evaluation. In this light, “trying to be a better person” can be less effective than choosing commitments that demand better behavior. Caring for a difficult colleague, showing up reliably for a child, or doing honest work under pressure forces character to develop in context—so the ethical outcome arrives through immersion, not obsession.
A Practical Reorientation Toward Life, Not the Mirror
To apply Burkeman’s idea, the shift is subtle but concrete: choose fewer self-improvement schemes and more real obligations that you can’t complete in your head. That might mean scheduling time for a project with external stakes, joining a group where others rely on you, or setting a modest creative goal with a deadline. The emphasis is on participation over optimization. Over time, this reorientation can reduce the background hum of self-judgment. Instead of asking whether you are becoming “a better person,” you begin to notice whether your days contain depth, contact, and contribution. In that steadier measure, a life can become more absorbing—and, almost incidentally, a person often becomes better too.