I've been thinking about self-help books lately. Frankly, they confuse me. Not the do-it-yourself kind, mind you. Those are the ones that give you excuses to buy power tools, make a royal mess of the house, and meet new and interesting people at the emergency room. The kind of self help books I want to talk about are the ones that tell you how to be a better person through contemplation of small shiny objects and how to solve all your problems through deep, thorough mediation of one's navel.
The basic premise behind these books seems to be that one can help one's self through just about any problem. The trick is just... well, actually, the trick changes from book to book. The point is, no matter how completely screwed up you are, you can fix yourself. Like a self cleaning oven, but without the horrible smell of oven cleaner. In other words: if you were to wear boots with bootstraps, you could pull yourself up by them.
Does that seem wrong to anyone else? If we could really fix ourselves, wouldn't the world be a less screwed up place? The arguments seem to be that either: 1) People don't want to be better, just don't want it bad enough. 2) People simply don't know how to unleash their inner butt-kickery.
Now, if either of these points were true, then I'm confused about how well self-help books are selling. It seems to me that if people didn't want to be whole, they wouldn't buy the books. But they do. They buy them on Costco size pallets, stacked high on fork lifts. You could house the homeless people of America in houses constructed solely from self-help books. And at least some of these books must be getting read.
So why aren't we perfect yet?
I have a theory. My theory is that completion can't be found in contemplation of the navel, the wrist, the ankle, or any other part of the body. No matter how hard you self-actualize, meditate, or flagellate, if your focus is on you, you'll be disappointed by the results. My theory is that the only way to completion is through Christ.
That seems too pat, doesn't it? I might give a defense of that last statement later, but it's late and I'm tired. So I won't right now. And there's nothing you can do about it.
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