Trade Self-Improvement for a More Absorbing Life
Stop trying to become a better person; focus instead on leading an absorbing life. — Oliver Burkeman
—What lingers after this line?
One-minute reflection
What does this quote ask you to notice today?
A Provocation Against Endless Self-Optimization
Oliver Burkeman’s line challenges a familiar modern reflex: treating life as a perpetual upgrade project. “Trying to become a better person” can sound noble, yet it often collapses into an anxious routine of measuring, correcting, and never arriving. In that mode, today becomes merely preparation for a future version of the self. Instead, Burkeman redirects attention toward “an absorbing life”—one that draws you into meaningful activity now. The contrast is not between ethics and indulgence, but between living as a manager of your own deficits and living as a participant in the world, where the day is more than a checklist for self-repair.
The Trap of Moral Self-Management
Once self-improvement becomes the central task, it can start to crowd out the very experiences that make someone wiser, kinder, or more grounded. The paradox is that constant self-monitoring encourages a self-centered attention: you’re always asking how you’re doing, how you’re perceived, and what needs fixing next. Burkeman’s suggestion implies a shift from self-surveillance to outward engagement. In practice, absorption often makes people more tolerable, generous, and resilient—not because they chased virtue directly, but because they became less preoccupied with personal standing and more involved in real commitments and relationships.
Absorption as a Path to Meaning
An “absorbing life” points to moments when time seems to disappear because attention is fully claimed—by work that matters, a craft, a conversation, caregiving, study, or play. Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s research on “flow” (e.g., *Flow*, 1990) describes this state as deep engagement where challenge meets skill, producing a sense of vitality rather than self-judgment. Moving from optimization to absorption also changes what counts as a good day. Instead of asking whether you perfected yourself, you ask whether you showed up to something worthwhile—something that asked for your presence rather than your performance.
Let Values Emerge From Commitments
This quote doesn’t dismiss character; it reframes how character is formed. Virtues often develop as side effects of commitment: patience is learned by raising a child, humility by studying a difficult subject, courage by keeping promises under pressure. Aristotle’s *Nicomachean Ethics* (4th century BC) similarly suggests that we become good through habituated action, not through abstract self-judgment alone. So the practical pivot is to choose endeavors that require you to practice the qualities you admire. By living inside those commitments, “better person” becomes less a goal you chase and more a byproduct of the life you’re actually living.
Replacing Improvement Plans With Concrete Participation
Burkeman’s advice becomes clearest when you picture two evenings: one spent researching the perfect routine to become disciplined, and another spent learning a song, cooking for friends, volunteering, or writing—imperfectly but fully. The second evening may not produce a flattering self-narrative, yet it often leaves you more alive. The transition is from preparation to participation. Rather than asking, “What should I optimize about myself?” you ask, “What am I willing to be absorbed by?” That question tends to generate choices with texture—people, projects, places—rather than endless private renovation.
A Sober Balance: Growth Without Self-Obsession
Finally, the quote is not a license to ignore harm or responsibility. If you routinely hurt others, “absorption” can’t be an excuse; repair and accountability still matter. The deeper point is about emphasis: when self-betterment becomes the main storyline, it can shrink life into a closed loop of self-concern. A more sustainable approach is to keep ethics as a compass while letting engagement be the engine. By orienting toward work and relationships that genuinely claim your attention, you may find that the person you hoped to become shows up quietly—because you were busy living.