Rules come in all shapes and sizes. Spoken rules, unspoken rules, passive-aggressive signage at the public pool. They’re usually there for a reason, but many of them are not as indisputable as you’ve been led to believe.
For example, “Always flush after number two” is a solid entry in the social contract. (Seriously, who raised you?) Whereas “Be nice to your elders” is a good suggestion in theory, but plenty of elders can be real dirtbags. Have you met Clint Eastwood? I think it’s okay to interpret that one on a case-by-case basis.
For most of my life, I was big on following ALL OF THE RULES; spoken, unspoken, indisputable, or otherwise. In some ways, this worked out well for me. Like, I’ve never had to have my best friend call my parents while I sobered up in the back of a squad car. Then again, my brother seems to have had a bit more fun in his twenties than I did.
Conclusion: rules that are also “laws” are probably best left unchallenged.
But in the past few years, I started noticing that other rules—some of the unspoken, non-legally-enforceable ones—were holding me back more than they were helping me. And that my following them wasn’t really helping anybody else, either. So I broke a few. And what do you know? I’ve actually achieved more happiness and success since I stopped being such a stickler for “doing stuff the way most people think it should be done.”
It started with little things, like skipping the weekly marketing meeting at my last job. (Readers of The Life-Changing Magic of Not Giving a Fuck will recall that meetings are a frequent casualty of one’s slimmed-down Fuck Budget.)
After a few years of getting up an extra hour early on Thursdays just to sit in a room while people recited updates that were unrelated to me getting my work done, I decided enough was enough. If one of my projects was on the agenda (once every five or six weeks), of course I’d make the effort. Otherwise, I’d spend that hour catching forty additional glorious winks.
I’d be doing unto others exactly like I’d want them to do unto me, i.e., “not getting up an extra hour early for the privilege of packing into a too-small conference room together to watch my lips move just because everyone else is doing it.” My absence wouldn’t be hurting anyone, I reasoned, and I certainly wouldn’t miss the low-level fug of coffee breath, painfully obvious grudge matches between colleagues, or the occasional tray of picked-over bagels.
Furthermore, who would really miss me?
As it turned out, nobody except one stickler-for-the-rules coworker who pestered me every Thursday when he spied me rolling into the office at my usual 10 a.m. Okay, 10:15.
(O-KAYYYY, 10:30. Jeez, you drive a hard bargain.)
“Where were you?” this fellow would ask. “Do you think this meeting is optional?” He was joking. Sort of. He knew the marketing meeting wasn’t mandatory for non-marketing staff, but he really felt like we (the editorial staff) should be there, and that if he had to follow the rules, so should I.
To be fair, I’d thought that too, for three wildly misinformed years. But when I decided to break an unspoken rule of office etiquette (“If you have to suffer through this mind-numbing bullshit, so should everyone else”), my life got tangibly better. By my back-of-the-envelope calculations, I saved myself at least forty hours—or one full-time workweek—of precious, blessed sleep each subsequent year.
Can’t beat that with a stale sesame seed bagel.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is a USDA prime example of when it’s okay to break a rule. Not only did it benefit me without hurting anyone else, it opened up an extra 2.2 cubic feet of space for another poor soul who did have to be there, and it surely emboldened others who didn’t.
I’m a role model, is what I’m saying.
With this success in my back pocket, my rule-breaking began to take more audacious forms. I flouted dress codes and wore flip-flops every day, not just Friday. I decided to get loud about my opinions instead of sitting idly by and avoiding confrontation. Occasionally, I brought only my B+ game.
It felt good.
“Rules are rules!” you might say. But now I say, “Eh, most of them are just suggestions.”
Along with reducing my day-to-day stress and making me feel more confident and empowered, breaking some of these unwritten rules made me a better employee, and a better person in general. It’s a lot easier to be creative and industrious when you’re focused on real challenges rather than “suggested” ones. And when you go out with your friends or home to your partner after a calm, productive day, you’re a lot more fun to be around too.
The key to doing you (without becoming a psychopath) is knowing which rules are bend-and breakable, and how to do it in a constructive way. One “rule” of thumb is: If it’s hurting or limiting you more than it’s helping others, it’s a good candidate.
To help get you started on identifying and thwarting such, I’ll be highlighting five dos and don’ts from the social contract—like I said, my least favorites—and offering an alternate perspective on each. Where “alternate perspective” means “a completely opposite point of view that some people will never accept but that makes a lot of damn sense if you just give it a second to sink in.”
For example, in “Don’t Be Selfish” I’ll explain why selflessness is overrated and how looking out for number one is often in everybody’s best interests, not just your own. In “Do Your Best,” I’ll write a letter to my younger self that functions as a cautionary tale for perfectionists of all ages. I’ll also cover standing up for what you believe in (“Don’t Be Difficult”), striking out on your own (“Do Be a Team Player”), and taking calculated risks (“Don’t Quit Your Day Job”).
By the time you’re done doing the don’ts and don’ting the dos, we’ll be ready to tackle a more insidious cause of Lowest Common Denominator Living known as “other people’s expectations.”
But that’s in Part III. For now, whatever you do, don’t turn the page.