Choose an Absorbing Life Over Self-Improvement
Focus on leading an absorbing life rather than turning yourself into a better person. — Oliver Burkeman
—What lingers after this line?
One-minute reflection
What feeling does this quote bring up for you?
Reframing the Goal From “Better” to “Alive”
Oliver Burkeman’s line shifts the center of gravity from self-optimization to lived experience. “Better person” implies a scorecard—more disciplined, more productive, more admirable—while “absorbing life” implies immersion, attention, and stakes. The contrast matters because the first can keep you stuck in evaluation, whereas the second pulls you into participation. Seen this way, the quote isn’t anti-growth; it’s anti-sidelines. Instead of treating life as a perpetual training montage for a future you, it invites you to ask what actually engrosses you now—what makes hours disappear and gives your days texture beyond improvement metrics.
How Self-Improvement Becomes a Subtle Form of Avoidance
From there, Burkeman’s critique targets a common trap: using “working on myself” as a respectable delay tactic. It’s easy to keep polishing routines, reading the next book, or waiting until you feel ready—especially when the thing you want is uncertain, public, or emotionally risky. Self-improvement can feel like progress while quietly keeping you safe. This dynamic resembles what psychologists sometimes call experiential avoidance: choosing controllable inner projects over messy outer commitments. An “absorbing life,” by contrast, tends to require imperfect action—joining the group, starting the draft, making the call—before you feel fully improved or prepared.
Absorption as Attention: The End of Constant Self-Monitoring
Once you prioritize absorption, attention naturally shifts outward. Instead of constantly monitoring how you’re doing, you become preoccupied with what you’re doing. That’s significant because much of modern anxiety is fueled by relentless self-surveillance—tracking habits, measuring outputs, assessing whether you’re becoming the right kind of person. The concept aligns with Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s work on “flow” (Csikszentmihalyi, Flow, 1990), where deep engagement arises when challenge and skill meet, and self-consciousness temporarily drops away. Burkeman’s emphasis isn’t merely on pleasure, but on the relief and meaning that come from being fully taken up by a real task.
Meaning Comes From Commitments, Not Upgrades
Next comes the question of what makes a life feel substantial. A fixation on “becoming better” can keep identity endlessly provisional—always one habit away from being worthy. An absorbing life, however, is built from commitments: to people, projects, places, and practices that matter enough to demand your time. Here, the quote echoes existential themes: you don’t discover yourself by perfecting a private essence; you shape a life through chosen involvements. Even when those involvements are ordinary—showing up weekly, learning slowly, carrying responsibility—they often produce the kind of meaning self-improvement promises but rarely delivers.
The Courage to Be Ordinary and Still Engaged
Importantly, choosing absorption over betterment also challenges the fantasy of exceptionalism. Self-improvement culture can smuggle in the belief that your life should be optimized into something impressive. Burkeman’s counsel instead permits you to be a normal person doing things that hold your interest and serve your values—without requiring that it add up to a perfected self. That can feel like a loss at first, because it relinquishes the dream of finally “arriving.” Yet it’s also liberating: you can participate now, at your current level, in imperfect circumstances—letting engagement, not self-transformation, be the primary proof that you’re living.
A Practical Test: What Pulls You In This Week?
Finally, the quote becomes actionable when translated into a simple diagnostic: what activities reliably absorb you, and what “improvement” projects mainly keep you busy? The difference often shows up in your body—absorption brings a grounded focus, while performative betterment can feel tense, brittle, and endlessly unfinished. A small shift can be enough: join the rehearsal instead of researching singing techniques; cook for friends instead of perfecting a nutrition plan; start the messy draft instead of assembling a flawless productivity system. In that pivot—from preparation to participation—Burkeman’s “absorbing life” stops being a slogan and becomes a way of choosing the day.