“The world is not given to us in a finished form. It becomes what we create”

It is from such “small things” that resilience, trust, and a future worth living are built.This book is about simple steps that change not only our personal lives, but also the space around us. We do not choose our starting conditions, but it is we who give them meaning. Every action is a seed from which both our own garden and a shared forest can grow. It is not about grand slogans, but about everyday actions: a respectful word, a clean stairwell, attention to a neighbor.

Preface

"The future has many names: For the weak, it means the unattainable. For the fearful, it means the unknown. For the courageous, it means opportunity"

Victor Hugo, writer, poet, and playwright, one of the greatest representatives of Romanticism

We live in a world of paradoxes. A world where the beauty of a sunset over the Pacific Ocean exists alongside news reports of wars. Where human genius can alter the genome of cells, yet remains powerless against the simplest vices of greed and fear. We launch space probes into interstellar space, while right beside us, on our own square meter of earth, we sometimes lack the strength to carry trash to a bin or to say “sorry.”

And it is in this very contradiction that the main challenge lies. Our world is not a finished given that can simply be accepted. It exists on the edge of fragile balance, which we either sustain—or destroy—with every step we take. This balance is formed from countless choices, made by each of us every second. The world does not simply “exist.” It is constantly “becoming.” And the main question each of us must ask is: “becoming what?”

All the tragedy and greatness of human existence lie in a simple truth: we do not choose our starting conditions, but it is we who give them meaning. We are not merely inhabitants of this world – we are its co-authors. With every action or inaction, we create reality – not only our own, but a shared one.

Our personal territory is not only the square meters of our home or the borders of a state. It is, above all, the space of our relationships, our values, our daily choice between indifference and involvement. We build our inner world, and from this building material emerges the architecture of our common home. It is impossible to create comfort in one’s own room if a fire is raging behind the wall, and one cannot save the world while ignoring the disorder within one’s own soul.

The fragility of world order lies not in its imperfection, but in our mutual responsibility. The world does not become better or worse on its own. It becomes what we make of it every day – through dialogue instead of conflict, through understanding instead of prejudice, through compassion instead of cruelty.

"Make the World Better. Start with Yourself" is about how to walk your unique path while remembering that all our trails intersect in one shared space called humanity. It is about the truth that our personal well-being is measured not by the height of the fence we build, but by the strength of the bridges we create to others.

We are not pawns in someone else’s game. We are the kings of our own universe, building the present for our descendants. Our legacy lies not in what we consumed, but in what we created. Not in what we took from the world, but in what we gave to it.

And this legacy does not begin with grand projects, but with quiet, daily actions: being honest where one could lie, helping where one could walk past, preserving where one could destroy.

We do not choose where to be born. But we do choose how to live. And in that choice lies our freedom and our destiny.

Part 1. Reflections on the Essentials. Architects of Reality

"Architecture is the art of making space livable"

Le Corbusier, architect, designer, and theorist, one of the pioneers of modern architecture

We live in a world we did not choose at the start, yet one we inevitably continue to build. And if we see life as construction, then we are not tenants under a contract but architects of our own reality. An architect does not argue with the terrain; he takes measurements, selects materials, and designs so that the house stands firm and fits with the houses next to it. In this chapter, we take exactly this perspective: not “who is obliged to fix everything,” but how we design and raise our own world among the many worlds of others, which often intersect with ours.

Inheritance of Circumstances

“We cannot choose the family or the place we are born into. But we can choose who we become, in spite of it”

Viktor Frankl, neurologist, psychiatrist, Holocaust survivor, founder of logotherapy

We come into the world with different starting points. Some have warm evenings with their parents and a modest budget. Others grow up in a spacious house, with adults following a strict schedule of care. Some are fortunate in several ways at once, while others begin their journey with almost nothing. This is not about whose life is “better” or “worse,” but about the different starting positions that shape what is available to us from the very beginning: health, the time adults can give, the safety of the neighborhood, the quality of the school, the circle of friends. Year after year, research confirms that starting conditions really do differ – from income and savings to life expectancy and quality of education. Across countries, the wealth gap is such that the top 10% of the population owns about half of all assets, while the bottom 40% has only a few percent, and even life expectancy is significantly higher among those with more education. This is not a verdict, but rather the terrain each of us has to walk.

Our “childhood address” also plays a role. Large datasets show that the neighborhood where we grow up has a significant impact on adult outcomes – from income to the likelihood of completing education; and this effect can be seen even at the level of individual communities. In other words, even with similar levels of poverty, neighboring areas can give children very different chances in life. This is not “mysticism” or politics – it’s about networks of contacts, the quality of schools, the safety of the streets, and the presence of role models nearby.

Health also follows a social “gradient.” The WHO Commission on Social Determinants of Health showed years ago that living and working conditions create a systematic ladder of health inequality within countries. Where housing, access to education, and stable employment are worse, people tend to get sick more often and live shorter lives – and this applies not only to the poorest, but to every rung of the ladder from bottom to top.

To this picture we must add another layer – childhood experience. Large-scale studies on adverse childhood experiences show that trauma, abuse, unstable families, and chronic stress in early years are linked to a higher risk of health and behavioral problems later in adulthood. These are not stereotypes or labels – they are well-documented connections observed by doctors and psychologists for decades.

If we look more broadly at the “lottery of birth,” social mobility on average is quite low: in a typical country, children born into the lowest-income families will need about four to five generations to reach the society’s median income level – all else being equal. This doesn’t mean that “everything is predetermined” – it means the slope of the path is real, and for many, the journey is simply longer, though there are always those who manage to climb it much faster.

Global statistics confirm this: multidimensional poverty (when people lack not only money but also access to basic services such as education, healthcare, clean water, and safe housing) still affects hundreds of millions of people, and more than half of them are children. These are not abstract percentages but real differences in starting opportunities.

What should we take away from this “inheritance of circumstances”? First, no one starts from the same line. Second, this is an objective part of reality, not a reason for mutual blame. Each of us has our own hand of cards – sometimes generous, sometimes modest, sometimes skewed: time without money, money without time, care without resources, resources without care. And third, the slope of the road is not a sentence. It explains why some have it harder, not why some “shouldn’t even try.” We are outside politics, religion, and “someone’s right or wrong”: there is no single addressee of blame here; there are different contours of reality, each resisting in its own way.

Yes, there are systems and institutions that improve the overall terrain – schools, healthcare, urban infrastructure. But even where the “elevator gets stuck between floors,” the local steps of people and communities can soften the slope: safe courtyards, support from neighbors, mentoring for teenagers, respectful speech instead of humiliation – all of these are local actions that work precisely because they happen “on the ground.” And the smoother “my stretch of road” is, the easier it becomes for those walking beside me.

If the starting positions are unequal, then the most direct lever is what lies within our zone of control: how we speak, what we leave behind in the shared space, what we share, how we earn, and how we help. The external slope changes slowly, but our own step can change immediately.

From Heir to Founder

"We are not what happened to us. We are what we choose to become"

Carl Jung, psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, the founder of analytical psychology

We do not choose our starting point, but we do choose who we become along the way. After the "inheritance of circumstances," each of us faces a simple yet tough question: what do I do with my set of cards? Do I leave everything as it is—or do I turn this inheritance into material for building? At that moment, a person ceases to be merely an heir and becomes a founder—the one who sets the rules of their world and takes responsibility for them.

The heir lives by inertia. He accepts not only the apartment, the language, and the family habits, but also the ready-made explanations: "this is how we do it," "this neighborhood has always been this way," "let those at the top decide." The heir waits, agrees, gets irritated, argues, but rarely changes anything within the reach of his own hands.

The founder acts differently. He begins with an inventory: what do I truly have—time, health, skills, connections, possessions, reputation? What drains my strength, and what restores it? Which habits do I repeat simply because that’s how people around me lived? The founder does not rewrite his entire life overnight—he sets up points of support from which he can move forward, and it is from these that he builds his first floor.

A support is not some abstract "strength of spirit," but a set of concrete decisions that we make ourselves and carry out ourselves.

1. Personal Perimeter. What is fully under my control today: my room, my stairwell, my workplace, conversations at home, my body, my schedule? Here each of us has the power to create order without permissions or endless discussions.

2. My Principles of Speech. I speak in a way that does not demean; when I feel a dispute has turned into a battle over “who’s right,” I stop: “It seems we’re looking from different angles. Let’s try to find a shared perspective, and if not, I suggest we close the topic.” This is not weakness but a choice to keep my energy from being wasted on noise.

3. Minimum Security. Food, sleep, basic income, documents, contacts, essential belongings. Without these, there is no stability and no creation. If something here is missing, the very first step is to strengthen or begin building exactly this foundation.

4. One Habitual Step a Day. The smallest one. Pick up a candy wrapper on the stairs and throw it away. Say “thank you” to the janitor or at least wish him a good day, lifting both his spirits and your own. Help an elderly neighbor carry her grocery bag – she may refuse out of modesty, but she will be grateful because it is difficult for her. Small is not heroism – and that is its strength: it is modest, but steady, because it repeats and gradually makes the world around a little kinder.

We all have different combinations of resources. This is not a reason to give up – it is a reason to build differently.

– If closer to survival. Focus on steps that bring immediate returns and require no investment: selling waste paper or scrap metal for money and keeping the collection site in order; small household services for fair pay; giving away items “to good hands” – to free up space and help neighbors. This means income, respect for the environment, and new connections.

– If in stability. Take steps that save resources and improve shared spaces: repair instead of replace; dispose of batteries once a month; take “stairwell duty” not formally, but genuinely; negotiate instead of ordering or quarreling.

– If in abundance.