Stop Breaking Your Own Rules

In his poem “Myself,” Edgar Guest writes:

I have to live with myself and so I want to be fit for myself to know. I want to be able as days go by, always to look myself straight in the eye; I don’t want to stand with the setting sun and hate myself for the things I have done.

I don’t want to keep on a closet shelf a lot of secrets about myself and fool myself as I come and go into thinking no one else will ever know the kind of person I really am, I don’t want to dress up myself in sham.I want to go out with my head erect.

I want to deserve all men’s respect; but here in the struggle for fame and wealth. I want to be able to like myself. I don’t want to look at myself and know  I am bluster and bluff and empty show.

I never can hide myself from me; I see what others may never see; I know what others may never know, I never can fool myself and so, whatever happens I want to be self respecting and conscience free.

 Of all the touching, tantalizing and traumatizing lines of this poem, the one that continues to affect me deeply is when the poet muses “but here in this struggle for fame and wealth, I want to be able to like myself.” Here is a simple, but profound question that is worth pondering at the outset of another year: how well do you like yourself?

Liking yourself goes far beyond appreciating your physical features, career status and material possessions. In its’ deepest, truest sense, liking yourself has much more to do with your values, decisions, and behavior. Liking yourself, to paraphrase Joan Didon, is the ability to sleep comfortably in the bed that you have made—to be at peace with who you are, where you are, and what you’ve done. And one of the rediscoveries that I made last year is that it is impossible to like yourself for long if you keep on breaking your own rules.

Rules are standards that regulate behavior. For example, traffic lights are designed to regulate how we operate our vehicles. Have you ever imagined how confusing and dangerous it would be if there were no mutually agreed upon rules? When you violate traffic rules, you may not only get a ticket; your license can be suspended or even revoked. What’s worse, you could also even jeopardize someone’s life. Similarly, we all (whether consciously or not) operate from a set of rules—standards that regulate our behavior. We all carry in our hearts a collection of lines that we try not to cross.

But rules not only regulate behavior. Rules also generate results. Some of the rules that we have adopted stem from our insecurities, inherited biases, and unwise counsel that we have absorbed from our environment. These rules are often dubious, limiting, and should be discarded. But some of the rules that we have adopted stem from our personal vision, value systems and the wisdom we have gleaned from our experiences and the experiences of those we trust. These rules have a proven track record of success. We know they work, because we have seen them work. And when we break them, we procure disappointment, unhappiness, and poor outcomes.

It saddens me to confess that last year I broke far too many of my own rules. People who do not understand your journey or who haven’t experienced your success will often question the rationale and the rigidity of your rules. They will accuse you of being old fashioned and even insensitive, and consider your rules unnecessary. But when you change the rules, you change the results. It’s worth noting that people who question your rules rarely have achieved your results. Hence, following their advice is the the height of folly.

After Jerusalem was destroyed by the Babylonians, a man named Nehemiah spearheaded the rebuilding of the walls around the city. It was a formidable task that required immense resources and was met with fierce resistance. Disappointed by the progress he was making, Nehemiah’s enemies hired some protestors who tried to persuade him that his life was in danger and that he should abandon his efforts. When Nehemiah learned of these threats, consider his response:

I said, “Why would a man like me run for cover? And why would a man like me use The Temple as a hideout? I won’t do it.”

I sensed that God hadn’t sent this man. The so-called prophecy he spoke to me was the work of Tobiah and Sanballat; they had hired him. He had been hired to scare me off—trick me—a layman, into desecrating The Temple and ruining my good reputation so they could accuse me. (Nehemiah 6:11-13 MSG)

Ponder Nehemiah’s rationale. “A man like me,” he said, neither runs or uses the temple as a hideout. Running and hiding weren’t in Nehemiah’s rulebook. And no amount of danger, fear, or opposition could force him to change how he operated. In fact, the amount of danger, fear and opposition that Nehemiah faced was proof that how he operated was correct. I can imagine Nehemiah thinking to himself “running and hiding didn’t get me to where I am, so why should I start running and hiding now?” Eventually, he discovered that it was a trick designed to limit his success. Had he broken his rules, he would have ruined his reputation, hampered his effectiveness, and destroyed his legacy,

As we headed into another year, don’t fall for the Devil’s trick. Stop breaking your own rules.