Stop Self-Improving, Start Living More Fully
Stop trying to become a better person and focus on leading a more absorbing life. — Oliver Burkeman
—What lingers after this line?
One-minute reflection
Where does this idea show up in your life right now?
The Provocation Behind “Better”
Oliver Burkeman’s line confronts a modern reflex: treating life as a perpetual upgrade project. “Becoming a better person” can sound noble, yet it often smuggles in an anxious assumption that you are not yet allowed to live wholeheartedly. Rather than rejecting ethics or growth, Burkeman is challenging the compulsive, future-oriented posture that turns the present into a mere training ground. From there, the quote reframes self-improvement as a potentially endless postponement. If the goal is always to fix yourself first, then life—messy friendships, creative risks, ordinary pleasures—keeps getting deferred, and the day-to-day starts to feel like an audition for a later existence.
Absorption as an Antidote to Self-Scrutiny
In contrast, “a more absorbing life” points to experiences that pull you outward, away from constant self-monitoring. Absorption is what happens when attention is captured by a craft, a conversation, a landscape, or a shared task—moments where the inner narrator quiets because the world is finally vivid enough. This transition matters because relentless self-improvement often feeds self-scrutiny: tracking habits, optimizing moods, measuring progress. Absorbing activities, by comparison, tend to dissolve the scoreboard. You’re not asking whether you’re becoming impressive; you’re engaged in something that feels worth doing even if it never “levels you up.”
The Trap of Infinite Optimization
Burkeman’s warning also targets optimization culture: the belief that the right routines, metrics, and mindsets can eliminate uncertainty. Yet the more you try to perfect the self, the more you may reinforce the sense that life is unsafe unless carefully controlled. That pursuit can become strangely sterile, because the point is no longer living but managing the conditions under which living might someday begin. Seen this way, “stop trying” isn’t a call to stagnate; it’s a call to exit the loop. When improvement becomes the main project, it crowds out the very things that make a person interesting—curiosity, play, devotion, and the willingness to be a beginner without turning that vulnerability into another performance target.
Meaning Arrives Through Commitment, Not Perfection
Moving from critique to alternative, an absorbing life is usually built through commitments that can’t be perfected in advance: raising children, making art, volunteering, learning a language, caring for a friend, joining a local cause. These commitments generate meaning precisely because they demand presence and participation, not because they certify personal excellence. Philosophically, this resonates with traditions that prioritize lived practice over ideal self-concepts; for example, Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics (4th century BC) emphasizes virtue as habituated action within a life, not a private badge earned through endless self-analysis. The point is to show up, imperfectly but repeatedly, until life thickens with consequence.
A Practical Shift: From Fixing Yourself to Showing Up
Practically, the quote invites a change in the unit of measurement. Instead of asking, “Am I improving?” you might ask, “Am I engaged?” That can mean planning fewer self-renovation projects and doing more things that absorb attention: hosting dinner even if you’re awkward, taking the long walk without tracking it, joining the amateur choir, building something with your hands. Over time, the irony is that this shift may still change you—often more reliably than self-improvement programs do. But the transformation is a byproduct, not the obsession. By privileging absorption over self-polishing, you stop treating life as a means to becoming “better” and start treating it as the thing you’re actually here to live.
Ethics Without the Ego Project
Finally, Burkeman’s line can be read as a gentler, less ego-centric route to moral growth. “Becoming a better person” can slip into image management, where goodness is another status marker. An absorbing life, however, tends to relocate attention toward other people and shared realities—where kindness is practiced because the moment requires it, not because it improves your self-concept. In that closing turn, the quote suggests that the deepest form of betterment may come when you stop making “better” the goal. By living more absorbingly—more involved, more curious, more committed—you may end up behaving with greater patience and courage anyway, but you’ll be too busy living to keep checking whether you qualify as improved.