MAY 8 — There’s a peculiar thing about self-improvement in today’s world: everyone seems to be doing it loudly. Scroll through your feed and you’ll see declarations of 5am workouts, new diets, study plans, detoxes, resolutions, resets. Some even announce they’re “going offline to focus on themselves” — and then proceed to post about it.
But here’s a question worth asking: Who are we really doing it for?
True growth, I believe, happens in silence. It isn’t broadcasted with hashtags or filtered selfies. It happens on those ordinary days when no one is watching, and yet, we still choose to show up — for ourselves.
Take Keanu Reeves, for example. One of Hollywood’s most recognisable faces, yet possibly also one of its quietest. After the success of The Matrix franchise, Reeves gave away a significant portion of his earnings — some reports say up to US$70 million (RM300 million today) — to the behind-the-scenes crew: the makeup artists, the costume designers, the unsung talents who helped shape the cinematic magic. He didn’t hold a press conference. He didn’t tell the world to “stay humble.” He just did it. Silently. Sincerely.
According to the author, real growth doesn’t need an audience. It unfolds quietly — in the everyday moments, when no one’s watching, and we still choose to keep going, just for us. — Unsplash pic
And perhaps that’s the point. Real self-improvement doesn’t seek applause. It doesn’t begin with a public pledge or a viral post. It begins with intention — and grows through consistency.
In Tuesdays with Morrie, Mitch Albom recounts a conversation with his former professor, Morrie Schwartz. “Don’t let go too soon,” Morrie advises, “but don’t hang on too long.” In the context of change, this is profound. It’s a reminder that becoming better — emotionally, mentally, spiritually — isn’t about extreme pivots or sudden reinventions. It’s about knowing what to keep, what to release, and doing both with grace.
And then there’s Rumi — whose verses, though centuries old, still pulse with modern relevance. He wrote: “Don’t you know yet? It is your Light that lights the worlds.” What a stunning thought. That our quiet work — the healing we do in private, the restraint we practice in anger, the effort we put into becoming kinder, calmer, wiser — sends ripples beyond what we can see. You don’t need to declare it. Your light will show.
But I get it. In a world that rewards visibility, silence can feel like insignificance. We’re conditioned to think that if no one notices our progress, it somehow doesn’t count. That’s a dangerous illusion. Because often, the most powerful transformations are the ones no one claps for.
When a tree grows, it doesn’t shout, “Look at me!” It simply stretches upward, season by season. Its roots deepen silently. Its fruit and shade speak for it. Likewise, your growth doesn’t need to be explained. It will show in how you carry yourself. In your choices. In your discipline when no one’s watching. In the way you respond to challenges that once overwhelmed you.
And if no one sees it? That’s okay too. Because the goal was never applause.
The goal was growth.
So, if you’re on that quiet journey — fixing your habits, setting boundaries, seeking peace, becoming softer in some places and stronger in others — keep going. Let it be your secret project, nurtured in silence and tended with care. You don’t need a witness. You don’t need permission.
You’ll know you’re changing not by what others say, but by what no longer rattles you. You’ll notice it in the pause you now take before reacting, the space you make for stillness, the clarity that rises in moments of solitude. There’s no announcement for this kind of growth. Only small, steady proof in the way you move through the world.
And one day, perhaps without even realising it, your presence will shift the room. Your calm will be louder than your words. Your steadiness will be noticed without explanation.
Your light, as Rumi promised, will light the worlds.
* Ir Dr Nahrizul Adib Kadri is a professor of biomedical engineering at the Faculty of Engineering, and the Principal of Ibnu Sina Residential College, Universiti Malaya. He may be reached at [email protected]
** This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.
