The sweat trickled down his temple, tracing a path past his ear and into the collar of his crisp, white shirt. Another spreadsheet, another motivational email from Jax E., another list of ’11 ways to elevate your game.’ He wasn’t even halfway through his inbox, and already the familiar knot of inadequacy was tightening in his stomach. The clock on his monitor showed 11:11 AM, a cruel reminder of how little progress he felt he’d made since his alarm blared at 5:01 AM. This wasn’t just a bad day; this was the relentless, suffocating rhythm of a system built on a lie: the idea that if things aren’t working, you just need to try harder.

I’ve watched it play out countless times, in cubicles and boardrooms across 51 different organizations. The core frustration, the one that makes you want to pound your desk and then immediately regret the impulse, is the pervasive, almost religious belief that every problem, from declining sales to personal burnout, can be solved by simply pouring more effort into it. More strategies, more positive thinking, more networking, more workshops – always more. It’s like trying to fix a leaky faucet by continually adding more water to the basin instead of turning off the tap. And yet, this is the prevailing wisdom, packaged and sold by figures like Jax E., who makes a considerable living peddling precisely this brand of superficial uplift.

The ‘Guru’ and the ‘Grit’

Jax E. is a corporate trainer. He’s got the perfectly tailored suits, the blindingly white smile, and the relentless, almost exhausting enthusiasm. His latest program, ‘The 41-Point Performance Pivot,’ promises to unlock ‘unlimited potential’ by simply implementing 41 actionable steps. Each step, he insists, is ‘critically important and singularly transformational.’ I’ve seen participants, eyes bright with hope, spending $171 on his one-day seminar, convinced that this time, *this time*, the secret to sustained excellence was finally within their grasp. They’d leave energized, ready to conquer the world, only to crash and burn three weeks later, blaming themselves for not having enough ‘grit’ or ‘discipline’ to maintain the momentum. It’s a convenient narrative for Jax, really, because it absolves his methods of any failure; the problem is always with the individual, never the system, never the flawed premise.

I admit, I was once one of them. Not for Jax’s particular brand of snake oil, but for the underlying philosophy. I used to believe that if I just applied myself with enough intensity, if I sacrificed enough sleep, if I just learned ‘the right hacks,’ I could overcome any obstacle. I pushed through periods of severe mental exhaustion, convinced that ‘rest was for the weak’ or ‘winners never quit.’ I once spent an entire month trying to optimize my morning routine down to the exact second, convinced that if I could only shave off another 51 seconds, I’d unlock a new level of productivity. It led to nothing but heightened anxiety and a feeling of profound failure when I inevitably couldn’t stick to it. My mistake wasn’t in trying; it was in believing that *more* was always the answer, rather than stepping back to ask *why* I needed to try so hard in the first place.

The Power of ‘Less’

This isn’t to say effort is useless. Far from it. But there’s a critical difference between focused, intentional effort applied to a well-understood problem, and a frantic, generalized pushing against an invisible current. The contrarian angle here is simple, almost painfully so: true, sustainable transformation often begins not with *more*, but with *less*. Less resistance to what is, less internal struggle against our own limitations, less trying to control what fundamentally cannot be controlled by sheer willpower alone. It’s about systemic change, about understanding the deeper currents at play, not just furiously paddling on the surface.

Think about it: when someone is genuinely struggling, whether with their health, their work-life balance, or simply feeling overwhelmed, the default advice is almost always to add something. ‘Try a new productivity app!’ ‘Read another self-help book!’ ‘Work out more!’ But what if the solution lies in *removing* obstacles? In identifying the foundational cracks that are causing the entire structure to groan under pressure? It’s like trying to maintain a complex machine that’s missing a crucial component: no amount of oiling or polishing will fix the core issue. Sometimes, the most revolutionary act is to acknowledge the need for fundamental support, for holistic care that addresses the roots of the problem rather than just layering on more superficial fixes. This is true for personal well-being, for corporate structures, and for individuals in need of a supportive environment, whether it’s for their mental health or something as essential as home care services in Vancouver.

*The relentless pursuit of more is often a distraction from the real work.*

This isn’t about being lazy or advocating for inaction. It’s about discernment. It’s about recognizing that our individual drive, however powerful, operates within a larger ecosystem. If that ecosystem is broken – if the expectations are unrealistic, if the support structures are absent, if the goals are misaligned with human capacity – then no amount of individual ‘grit’ will change the outcome. Jax E. and his ilk profit from this delusion, because it keeps people on a treadmill, constantly striving, constantly buying into the next ‘ultimate’ solution, while the real problems remain unaddressed. It’s a perpetual cycle of hope and disillusionment, neatly packaged for maximum profitability. I often wonder how many of his students, after their initial burst of motivation fades, simply feel worse about themselves, concluding they are inherently deficient, rather than seeing the flaw in the methodology itself. Perhaps 101 out of every 111.

The deeper meaning here goes beyond mere productivity. It touches on our inherent value. We are not just machines to be optimized. We are complex, fallible, resilient beings. When we reduce ourselves to a collection of ‘metrics’ and ‘hacks,’ we lose sight of what truly sustains us: connection, purpose, rest, and genuine support. The ‘more’ paradigm strips us of this, pushing us towards an unsustainable ideal that ultimately diminishes our humanity. It creates a culture where taking a break feels like a moral failing, where asking for help is seen as weakness, and where simply existing, doing enough, is never quite enough.

Challenging the Narrative

The relevance of this idea couldn’t be more immediate. In a world constantly demanding faster, smarter, better, the pressure to conform to the ‘more’ mentality is immense. From social media feeds showcasing curated perfection to corporate cultures glorifying overwork, we are constantly bombarded with messages that reinforce this myth. It’s exhausting, it’s demoralizing, and it’s unsustainable. It contributes to skyrocketing rates of burnout, anxiety, and a pervasive sense of inadequacy that ripples through society. We need to question the underlying assumptions. We need to challenge the narrative that more effort will always yield better results, especially when that effort is directed at symptoms rather than causes. We need to pause, reflect, and perhaps, for once, demand *less* of ourselves and *more* from the systems that dictate our lives. It’s an invitation to cultivate a sustainable existence, to find peace not in endless striving, but in strategic, authentic engagement. What if the most radical act of self-improvement was simply to stop adding another item to the to-do list, and instead, to truly evaluate what needs to be removed?