D.I.Y.

If God helps those who help themselves, what does he do with people who read self-help books? I am currently in the midst of doing just that, as I am about halfway through Happier: Learn the Secrets to Daily Joy and Lasting Fulfillment by Tal Ben-Shahar. My usual reticence about such reading material was tempered by the fact that Ben-Shahar is a professor at Harvard, and has appeared on "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart". This must be one clever, hip, happening kind of professor. Who wouldn't want a few pointers on becoming more self-aware and, hopefully, happier.
Still, I'm not much for getting help on these things. I am generally suspicious of anyone claiming to be an expert on human potential and fulfillment. I've done my share of introspection and have had some very nice experiences in therapy. I've also had a few less-than-comfortable moments that were intended to create a deeper understanding of myself that turned out to be essentially money making ventures. I spent a weekend in an attempt to build my self-esteem, in one of those overtly touchy-feely remnants of the seventies. We laughed and cried and hugged and learned a poem and hugged and cried some more, and after I had paid in full, I was told that I had done such a good job that they wanted me to come back and enroll other unhappy people into their program.
I am embarrassed to say now that I did just that, for a little while. I really felt that what they were selling was important. Then one day as I was working my line on a kid who would probably have to work an extra shift at McDonald's to cover his enrollment, it occurred to me, "If this stuff is so important, why isn't it free?" The powers that be at the center told me that worrying about money was just another trap, and if it really was important, anybody could find the five hundred dollars to do the course. I didn't go back.
When the time came to sober up, I didn't go to any meetings. I read some of the books and talked to people who had done the program, but I felt confident about where I was headed. I have friends who have had lots of success with varying levels of participation in a great many different twelve step programs. They are, by contrast, free unless you count the contributions for coffee. They give people the thing that Kurt Vonnegut Jr. wrote about in so many of his stories: an extended family.
Tonight before I go to bed, I will read a few more pages of my book, and maybe take a swipe or two at the exercises at the end of the chapter. And I'll be grateful to my mother-in-law for giving it to me. And I'll smirk a little at the irony of marrying into a family whose business is writing self-help books. Whatever makes them happy, I guess.