I once spent a whole year of my life living, breathing and, in many cases, crying my way through self-help books. Each month, I picked a new book and did absolutely everything it told me to do in the hope that it would transform my broke, hungover, periodically depressed existence.
In the name of conquering my fears I jumped out of planes, did stand-up comedy and modelled naked. I spent a month getting rejected every day as a part of a masochistic form of self-help called Rejection Therapy. I even tried running across burning coals in the hope that the flames would rid me of my anxiety.
Spoiler alert: It didn’t happen. Not at all. By the end of the year I had not turned into a cross between Buddha and Beyoncé; instead, I was exhausted and overwhelmed by all the crazy things I’d done.
I learned that when it comes to wellness, less really is more.
Fortunately, the self-help world seems to be catching up to this approach with a new book that embodies this ethos: by life coach Gabrielle Treanor. Its premise is that you need not devote hours
