A Shift Toward Simplicity
Less self-help and more self-awareness
I don’t know if it’s the shift toward cool weather, the vibe of the holidays, or the academic break I’m currently on, but I find myself quite reflective this time of year.
Throughout 2025, I made a number of substantial changes to improve my well-being: numerous social media sabbaticals (which I’m still currently on - and may be forever), consolidating my news consumption to a day per week, and screen-free sabbaths.
This year, I also committed to reading more. As a predominantly non-fiction reader, I gravitate toward books discussing productivity, habit building, simple living, and health science.
My “rationale” is to read evidence-based content that I can utilize personally and professionally. Research is part of that content, but most of the fitness questions people ask me are about things they’ve seen in mainstream media. Scientific journalism helps to fill that gap and does so in a way that isn’t a total snooze fest. I’ve yet to read a riveting research article.
Inevitably, the consumption of this type of content fuels an indirect compulsion for self-optimization. It’s virtually impossible to read about habit formation and not want to implement the author’s strategies so I can finally start drinking an adequate amount of water each day. (Still working on that one, by the way.)
With each book we read, each podcast we listen to, or each YouTube video we watch, we start to buy into the hype that if we could only get this part of our life together, things would be so much easier. However, I’ve yet to meet someone who is living their best life simply because they kicked their sugar habit or were exceptionally hydrated.
The reality is that most of us (myself included) feel like we’re constantly failing to do the basics to keep us “healthy” such as: getting enough physical activity, consuming enough protein, drinking enough water, lifting enough weights - you know the ones. If you’re a parent, you probably feel this pressure tenfold.
All the tips and strategies in the world aren’t going to translate into behavior change if you’re so overwhelmed by information that you can’t implement any of them. We spend so much time researching and perfecting our plans, yet still end up failing to execute them.
Sharing what I learn from my personal research is not going to make that much of a difference in the day to day lives of what people do. If mainstream media has taught us anything, it’s that people are even more skeptical of science these days.
People are typically going to do what the loudest voices or the skinniest influencers are doing. Do as they say and you’ll look/feel/be just like them, right? Scrolling fuels the self-optimization trap in the worst way. Non-stop reels and algorithms fill your feed with fit bodies, new supplements, and must-have products guaranteed to change your life.
Furthermore, this isn’t limited to fitness. How many times have you swiped through your news feed and read a post that made you question your parenting skills, or watched a reel of a perfectly clean house while you side-eyed the mountain of dishes in your kitchen sink?
Look, I love learning, teaching, and helping others improve their well-being. Even as a professional in this field, I, too, feel this pressure to continually do more and be better. But, if we constantly try to improve ourselves without taking a moment to assess where we currently stand - physically, spiritually, emotionally, etc. - we end up aiming for a moving target.
I want my focus in the coming year to be on cultivating simplicity in my own life and, by sharing my experiences, I hope to encourage others to do the same. I don’t want to fan the flame of continual self-improvement, but rather, want to create space for self-reflection
While I still plan on writing about fitness, you’ll likely see my newsletters incorporate personal reflection and simple living. By peeling back the layers of life that aren’t serving us, we can find room for authentic growth. I honestly believe that’s all the self-optimization we need.


