Beyond Self-Help
selling my soul for one post...
On Nature and Nobility: Against the Religion of Self-Help
There exists a natural hierarchy whether you choose to acknowledge it or not. Some are born to greatness, some achieve it, and most will never touch it. This isn't meant to discourage you—it's meant to wake you from the neurotic self-help delusion that anyone can become anything through enough "optimization" and "life hacks."
I've been failing fitness tests repeatedly. Each time, I get closer to the standard, but still fall short. Here's the truth that burns: those mornings I chose comfort over the cold pool, I was making a choice about who I am. Not because missing the gym makes you weak, but because these small decisions reveal our nature. Are you tempered steel or brittle iron? The answer lies not in what you claim to want, but in what you're willing to endure.
But here's where I break from the typical "rise and grind" prophets of our age: the modern self-help industry is selling you a lie. They package empty platitudes in neat little rules, promising that if you follow their system, you too can join the elite. This is the Bourgeois mindset—thinking you can buy or hack your way into natural aristocracy. But true greatness isn't found in imitating success; it comes from understanding your nature and pushing against its boundaries.
Not everyone is meant to be a Navy SEAL or an Olympic athlete. Not everyone has the nature for greatness in any particular domain. And that's fine. The tragedy isn't in being average—it's in refusing to acknowledge your nature while desperately chasing someone else's destiny. The Bourgeoisie tried to imitate the Aristocracy but missed the essential truth: it wasn't the wealth that made the aristocrat, but the tradition, the responsibility, the inherited understanding of greatness that comes not from reading "12 Rules for Life" but from something much deeper.
You can strive to be in the top 1%. You can work towards it. But understand that if you're not willing to prosper in the dark—to put in those thousands of unseen hours, to embrace the pain of growth—you're just playing at greatness. You're choosing the easy path, the Bourgeois path, seeking the appearance of excellence without the essence.
Every time you choose comfort over growth, you're making a statement about who you are. Not because comfort is wrong, but because these choices reveal your nature. Are you the kind who rises despite every internal protest, or are you the kind who gives in to the warm bed and endless scroll? Neither choice makes you more or less human. But one path tempers the steel; the other leaves it brittle.
The hardest pill to swallow isn't that you might fail—it's that your nature might not be what you wish it to be. But in understanding this, in working within these boundaries while pushing against them, you might find something more valuable than the false promises of self-help: you might find who you actually are.