SOMETIMES I get tired of always striving to be better — of knowing there are ways, endless ways, I can improve myself or members of my immediate family.

When I feel really down, I think of how far we have to go. We could, for example, start our own vegetable garden, use that homegrown produce to make delicious and healthy meals and compost the leftovers in the composter we don’t yet have. Then we could turn off — or even throw out — the television and read to each other from the classics while sitting in our hand-carved chairs.

It’s not going to happen. Not that any one of those ambitions is impossible. They are just not a priority. Still, at various times they feel as if they should be (except maybe the hand-carved chairs).

Self-improvement is a deeply embedded American trait, something other cultures find both admirable and amusing. The notion that we can constantly make ourselves better is, in theory, a great idea.