“I went to a bookstore and asked the saleswoman, ‘Where’s the self-help section?’ She said if she told me, it would defeat the purpose.”

– George Carlin

 

 

I used to be the biggest self-help buff when I was in my teens. I was that skinny guy in high school who always had a book in his hands, stealing tiny pockets of time between classes, and skipping recess, to read something by the likes of Tony Robbins and Phil Stutz. When I got home, I would be binge-listening to self-help lectures and audio programs.

But somewhere along the way, something in me changed. Perhaps I started to become more “logical”. I became allergic to anything corny or remotely new-age, like visualization and affirmations.

Perhaps I became more susceptible to any form of criticism I encountered about self-help, which I would tend to compliantly accept as pure fact. 

Perhaps I got carried away by the rising cancel-culture, which regarded just about every self-help figure out there as con-men, cult leaders, or stark-raving megalomaniacs.

I even remember writing an article on this blog about the dark side of self-help, in which I attempted to challenge some of the common advice perpetuated by the self-help industry, particularly in how they could end up worsening your mental health.

But some time recently, I came across a documentary called Stutz, which was directed by actor Jonah Hill. The documentary is a candid discussion between Hill and his psychiatrist, Phil Stutz, on how Stutz was a massive help to Hill in working through his mental health issues. 

The documentary partly goes over the visualization techniques that Stutz pioneered, called The Tools, which help in managing difficult emotions like fear of failure, resentment, and unworthiness. (He also published these techniques in a book of the same name.)

Watching the documentary, I was reminded of how The Tools was one of the most practically useful self-help books that I had read as a teenager — and perhaps, ever. They especially helped with my chronic procrastination, among many other things.

The visualization exercises were so useful to me, that I still remembered them by heart after more than a decade. 

But I broke my own heart when I thought back on why I stopped doing those exercises. The reason was, nothing. Except that I started thinking they were corny. 

This made me reevaluate my beliefs about self-help. Is the self-help industry really as dark and malicious as I thought? Were my opinions about self-help really my own, or was I merely echoing what others had already said?

My current thoughts are somewhere in between. 

On one hand, I still don’t completely agree with some of the popular practices in self-help, like being over-fixated on a goal. Or having too much zeal or passion, to the point that you’re willing to put yourself through all kinds of torture, just because you can. In many cases, common sense stills wins. 

Likewise, I’m not fond of some of the business practices in self-help. For instance, how Tony Robbins charges a fortune for his events, like his 6-day seminar, Date With Destiny, which can cost between $5,000 and $12,000 USD for a single ticket. 

But on the other hand, I’ve opened my mind a lot more towards how helpful self-help can be. I no longer care about how corny or uncool the practices may seem. I’m willing to give these practices a try, before deciding for myself whether they are helpful or not. 

There’s one thing that Stutz said in the documentary that really hit me. He said, “A Tool is a bridge between what you realize the problem is and what the cause of the problem is, actually gaining at least some control over the symptom.”

At least some control. 

The effectiveness of practices like visualization may or may not be strongly backed my scientific evidence. (This is a point that self-help critics like to pick on). But for me, they’re useful in that they give you some sense of power or control over your own life — at least enough for you to take the necessary steps to keep your live moving forward. It gives you hope. 

Knowing well what it’s like to be on the other end of that — being depressed all the time, and interpreting every event in my life in negative terms — I can say that hope is always a good thing.

And also, here’s one thought about the cancel-culture that is prevalent around self-help. It could be valid in certain cases, depending on several factors, like the severity of the alleged wrongdoing, and whether the accused is proven guilty. 

But nowadays, it’s almost as if people are cancelling anybody just because they have nothing better to do. The plain reality is that no one is perfect. If you dig deep enough into any person’s history, you will, without a doubt, find some dirt in it. The same goes to me. You can always find something about me or about my past that you can use to bring my reputation down. 

For all the criticism and cancel-attempts that a self-help figure like Tony Robbins, Phil Stutz, or Dr. Joe Dispenza, or Jay Shetty may encounter, it doesn’t change the fact that their work has helped countless of people around the world. 

Along the same line, as I’ve mentioned, I may not like how Tony Robbins charges a fortune for his events, even if this is how he makes sure his participants are only the most committed to their personal growth.

But the thing is, it doesn’t actually matter all that much to me. I still appreciate his work, and his earlier books have done plenty of good for me. No one’s forcing anybody to go to his events anyway. (And in his defense, he has done plenty of events for free as well, on top of his decades-long charity programs.)

With this long ramble of mine, I don’t mean to say that my views on self-help are necessarily correct. Sometimes, I wonder if “right” even really exists when it comes to many of our questions about life. 

At the end of the day, a useful thing to always remember is that life is incredibly relative, and imperfect. Instead of endlessly criticizing, you can simply take the good and leave the bad. You can simply take what works for you, and leave others to what works for themselves.