I've often wondered what sort of qualities distinguish somebody as a "self-help enthusiast". Because I'm not in possession of any of them. That doesn't mean I haven't tried to get on board with the whole notion of self-improvement over the years, and my failure to embrace any of them fully definitely doesn't mean I don't think there are any areas of my character that could do with improvement. Definitely not. It's just that I haven't found any self-help methods that really "speak" to me. At least, not without a blandly irritating and insincere-sounding American accent that distracts from all the key messages.
Voices are crucial in this field of work. These people are basically telling you what to do, so I doubt many people would take a self-help guru seriously if he or she sounded like Joe Pasquale or Waynetta Slob. But it's so difficult to get right, because if you sound too earnest that's a no-no as well. I bought a copy of Paul McKenna's 'Change Your Life in Seven Days' a few years ago, in the hope that it might help me incorporate a bit of self-discipline into my life. The book included a hypnosis CD that you're supposed to listen to for 30 minutes a day to kick-start the programme. You're supposed to relax, close your eyes and listen to Paul's soothing voice telling you how much you're loved and how much you're worth a better life and how he's going to tell you all about how to give yourself that gift. Worthy sentiments...that unfortunately I couldn't take seriously because his voice had gone all low and rumbly on the CD and it made me laugh so much I ended up getting up to grab a bar of chocolate and a mug of coffee to enjoy while I listened to it...which incidentally I only did the once in the end.
When I was about eighteen, a friend told me all about this wonderful book she'd read, which had given her the courage to ask someone out at her work. He'd said no, but she said that hadn't mattered, because the book had given her so much confidence that she no longer felt scared to ask for the things she wanted. It sounded impressive, and at that age I was a bit lacking in confidence myself, so I went out and bought myself a copy of the book, which was Susan Jeffers' 'Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway!' I took the book home, eagerly opened it and started reading. But I couldn't get past Chapter One, which told me to "stick Post-it notes on your mirror and everywhere you'll spot them round the house, just to remind you how wonderful you are!"
'Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway!' is a worldwide best seller, with hundreds of people proclaiming its brilliance. But did anybody actually do that bit, and take it at all seriously? If they did, did they take all the Post-it notes down when people came round, or did they mind their house guests using the bathroom and not being able to see their face in the mirror for a barrage of "I'm great, me!" notes stuck all over it? Did the guest maybe go back downstairs to put the kettle on for their "great" friend, only to find a "Never Forget I'm Worth It!" note stuck to the fridge when they went to get the milk? I really can't imagine I'd be elevated to more confident behaviour just because I'd scribbled "Because I'm Worth It" on a bit of paper and then stuck it above my mirror. In fact, I'll go as far as saying that I would regard anybody who did this and then failed to find it even slightly amusing as someone with whom I could never enjoy any kind of relationship.
Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP) seems to have taken over as the self-help method du jour in recent years; you're supposed to treat your brain as a computer than can be re-programmed at will. At least five people I know have espoused the benefits, which are that you "know yourself better" and that you're "better able to read other people's behaviour". "Sit down!" barked a work colleague at me a few years ago, on returning to our office after a week's Basic NLP training. "I bet I can tell you what sort of person you are from asking you this question!" I sat down, not replying that I was already at least a little bit aware of the sort of person I was; I knew my name, and where I lived and worked. On a Monday morning that was enough, thanks very much. But I indulged him as he asked me to describe something that was in the room we were in, without looking at it. I did as he asked, and waited politely for my character assessment.
He looked back at me, clearly a bit puzzled. "Oh...well, I'm not sure you did it right" he said. "Because most people's eyes will flit either to the left, or to the right when they've been asked that kind of question, and that's how you can tell what sort of personality they've got. But your eyes didn't flit anywhere, so I can't tell you anything!". He sounded a bit angry, bless him, so I apologised for my eyes not flitting anywhere and silently (and maybe unfairly) decided never to have anything to do with NLP training. Another method of self-help bit the dust.
(Until I find a good commercial self-improvement method I'm just going to stick with my own way; wine, music and good conversation. Because I'm just so worth it!)
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