TYLER: The Descent Into Madness

The self-improvement process basically works on the following premises:

1- Aligning your internal compass directly to where you want to go (as opposed to where you *don't* want to go).

2- Activating your "reticular activation system" so that all the people, books, distinctions, and resources you previously never saw become apparent.

3- Building a new belief system, and using the "pymalion effect" of self-fulfilling prophecies to your advantage.

It's a field-tested process, which pretty much does the trick every time. I mean it -- I really believe that I can accomplish just about anything just by sticking to the playbook.

There's a downside though -- the "descent into madness" factor.

One of the things that Neil talks about in his book is essentially the descent into madness that goes on when somebody cares about nothing other than transforming themselves.

His outlook is that it's a bad thing -- you lose control over your thoughts, important aspects of your life fall by the wayside, and every waking moment is devoted to the contemplation and cultivation of a new identity.

Take myself as an example:

BEFORE SELF HELP:
-Living in a small town in Canada
-No hope of a future
-Thinking I would die alone, possibly in jail
-Scrawny, underweight, weighing 120 pounds

NOW:
-World travelled, living in an apartment in Hawaii overlooking the ocean (I throw a penny out of my window, and it lands in sand)
-The future is limitless, with anything less than stellar being a disappointment
-Unlimited options in women, and I will probably die doing some risky activity or visiting an impoverished country
-Built, body healthy, improving every day

Has my life been balanced? Not in the slightest.

It's funny to sit in your apartment over looking the ocean, with your girlfriend bent over getting pounded, looking at yourself in the mirror -- thinking "I must have done a few things right to be in this situation."

It's funny to be travelling in exotic countries, flying over mountains, or driving through the hills on a motor bike -- thinking "I'm seeing this country that my ancestors come from, but I've had to fly half way across the world to get here."

It's funny to rub shoulders with people you grew up listening to in your CD player or watching on TV -- thinking "Wasn't I just watching you on youtube last week?".

It's funny to be on a bed with two girls groping you and fighting over you -- thinking "I LEARNED THIS SHIT OFF THE INTERNET?!?!"

More than anything, it's funny and SCARY to realize that you're the best at something (even though you're not all that good), and that if you want advice the only place you're going to be able to turn for it is inwards.

Could I have gotten here with balance? It's hard to say. I don't see a lot of people who did. All the best guys say the same thing: "Don't become obsessed like I did." And yet, all the best guys were at one point obsessed. Was it that becoming UNCONSCIOUSLY competent was their final step in development, or could it be that their obsession was unnecessary and that with better guidance they could have achieved the same thing from the get-go?

My mind -- it's on overdrive the entire time. I don't think most of you guys would enjoy spending five minutes in my head. It often feels like an out of control machine that I'm struggling to harness. I look at guys who don't have my level of responsibility and I'm envious -- they don't have to work as hard as I do to feel an equal level of satisfaction.

Sometimes I think that self-help is a virus that's entered my mind and is doing more harm than good. Other times I think I'm one lucky mofo to live in a world where it's down to such a science -- and not to be sitting back in a small town, married, working labour jobs in the snow like all my friends.

It's a blessing and a curse.


Tyler