I’d Like to Shift the Self-Help Industry’s Paradigm

What I’m about to say might not make me very popular in the industry I now belong to, having published my own self-improvement books. But it’s true for me—and this is my blog, so here goes:

I don’t read a lot of self-help books anymore. In fact, I almost stopped reading them entirely about eighteen years ago because, quite frankly, I was bored out of my tree. So many seemed to echo the same ideas—wrapped in slightly different packaging—and while I understood the concepts, they often painted an idealistic world I’d only be able to achieve if I lived in a cave with no human interaction. Tempting some days, sure—but not exactly real life.

I didn’t want a book that helped me escape life. I wanted one that helped me live it—with all its glorious mess and human complexity.

Waking Up to Real Life

The first time I truly realised that life wasn’t meant to be perfect (and never will be) came after reading The Celestine Prophecy, then working through the accompanying workbook. My friend Josie and I even ventured into the forest looking for tree auras. We loved the idea that life could be magical and pure.

But those moments of clarity were soon swallowed up by the reality of living—working, navigating relationships, being part of the world.

Then I discovered Dan Millman’s Way of the Peaceful Warrior. That book changed everything. I realised that my daily actions were the lesson. That what I did each day—whether cleaning, conversing, or simply showing up—was my spiritual path. I didn’t need to step outside of my life to become enlightened. My growth lived in the ordinary moments. My sense of self was shaped not in isolation, but through engagement.

Living Life Through Community

I still remember a friend once telling me that I was "creating drama" in my life by being so involved in my community. According to them, if I truly wanted to evolve spiritually, I should stop spending time with “those kinds of people” and only associate with “enlightened souls.”

At the time, I found the comment deeply offensive—judgmental, narrow-minded, arrogant, and elitist. In hindsight, I can also see that my strong reaction came from my tendency to protect others due to the traumatic shame I often carried. These days, I’d simply smile and say, “Each to their own.”

The truth is, I love being an active member of my community. I love the town I live in—Drouin is known far and wide because I talk about it so much. It nurtures my soul. But beyond that, I believe in leaving the world better than I found it. I believe we each have a responsibility—to our local communities, to society at large, and to the global family we’re all part of.

Helping those less fortunate isn’t a burden. It’s an honour. For me, this is my spiritual journey. This is my purpose. And I can promise you this: if I were to go sit in a cave and stare at my belly button, I’d be betraying myself entirely.

The Real Classroom: Other People

Does this mean I deal with Mistletoe people? Yes.
Snowballers? Yep.
People with an insufficiency mentality? All the time.
The relentless peacemakers of the world? Oh, absolutely.

As I say in Making Sense of the Insensible, injustice comes to us in three ways:
– how others treat us
– how we treat others
– and how we treat ourselves.

Each person I interact with teaches me something. About them. About me. About the world. That is spirituality in action. Why would I want to avoid it? It’s the rich tapestry of life itself.

Moving Beyond the Self-Help Template

When I stopped reading self-help books, I turned to business books instead. They focused more on how to manage life than perfect it. They weren’t preaching idealism. They were offering tools.

Eventually, I realised I wanted to write my own book—one that explored real life. One that acknowledged the messiness, the unfairness, the injustice. I wanted to explore how we grow through those experiences, not despite them.

Because challenges never really disappear. They simply evolve. What once crippled us might barely register later. That’s the joy of growth—it’s an adventure. Not a test. And I wanted to write (and recently re-write) something that embraced life rather than judged it.

Same Message, Different Cover

Every so often I’ll hear about a new self-help book that catches my ear. I’ll buy it. I’ll read it. And I’ll usually end up filling pages of my personal journal with rants about the subtle superiority that lingers beneath the surface.

Over the last thirty years, I’ve noticed a familiar pattern:

1. The author shares their journey (or a client’s).

2. They describe the universal human struggle.

3. Then they shift pronouns and begin telling you what you need to do—how you’ve gone wrong, and how you need to think, act, and feel to finally get it “right.”

It’s exhausting. And it’s rarely empowering.

In a strange twist, I now learn more from these books about injustice than inspiration.

A Different Message

In everything I do—courses, workshops, practitioner training, client sessions, and in the pages of my books—I’m offering one core message:

We all experience all ten injustices.
We do them to others.
Others do them to us.
And we internalise it all and do it to ourselves.

That’s life.
There’s no perfect way to be.
There are no “right” rules.

There is just this:
We can heal.
We can grow.
We can get better at being ourselves.

Three words I hold dear are: choice, growth, and responsibility.
But I could just as easily add: acceptance, tolerance, compassion, empathy, love, and support.

What words shape your approach to life?

https://tinyurl.com/makingsenseofyourinsensible