Rules Over Decisions

Lately, I’ve been thinking about rules—not rules others impose on us, but the rules we create for ourselves.

A couple of months ago, I needed onion and garlic to make a stir-fry dish one evening, so I went to my local grocery store Berkeley Bowl. An hour later, I was still at the store. My half-full cart, however, didn’t have onion or garlic. Instead, it had a colorful collection of chips, popcorn, and pineapple sparkling water.

When I got home, I was tired. I didn’t start cooking until 7 p.m. Dinner was late, and by the time I cleaned up the kitchen, it was too late to watch TV (I have a rule of no TV after 9 p.m. on weekdays).

I was looking forward to Better Call Saul, and I was frustrated!

My weakness while shopping in person is the tendency to browse the entire store. I’m often curious: what good stuff do they have in the next aisle?

Grocery stores are designed to maximize revenue by encouraging shoppers to travel longer distances. That’s why they put essential items like eggs and milk in the back, so we have to walk past the chocolates and the ice cream.

Knowing the grocers’ tactics, however, doesn’t help. Once I’m in, I am a kid at the candy store. The problem, of course, is that I’m also an adult with a credit card. This means I can do serious damage.

I set a new rule for myself this month: I will only look for things on my shopping list when I shop for groceries. This rule is a forcing function: I need a shopping list before I even set foot in a store.

Throughout the week, whenever I think of an item, I write it down in this top-bound spiral notebook.

I picked this notebook because it can stay open—I don’t need to flip a page to jot down an item. The size is compact while having enough space on each page.

Since no single shop has everything I need, I have tabs for different stores: Trader Joe’s, Costco, Asian grocery stores, etc. I also ensure a couple of pens are next to the notebook. I know I have to make the process frictionless.

I have been carrying this notebook for the last few weeks whenever I go shopping, checking off items as I go. Even with this rule, I’m still tempted to wander. But having the shopping list in hand forces me to ask every few minutes: Are you looking for what’s on the list?

Do you choose to break your rule?


Rules are simple if-then statements. It can be positive: If I’m in X situation, I will do A. It can also be negative: Whenever Y happens, I will not do B.

Other rules I currently have:

  • Upon waking up, meditate and journal for a few minutes
  • When conversing with another person, put the phone away
  • No tea after 3 p.m.
  • Go on at least one walk daily (doesn’t matter how long)
  • Swim on Tuesday nights (if work permits)
  • Share a short piece of writing with friends on Fridays
  • Buy only packaged foods with ingredients I can pronounce

When there is a conflict between how we act and who we want to be, it’s an opportunity for a rule. New rules challenge the status quo. They lead us to examine the current situation and ask: If I were to start from scratch, what would I choose?

Rules sound restrictive, but they can paradoxically be freeing. Effective rules eliminate hundreds of unnecessary decisions. They set boundaries so our mind doesn’t have to wonder about every possibility in a busy world filled with distracting options. 

Instead of shopping for two hours, I can simplify my decisions and go home early.

Unlike rules others put on us—which may or may not be in our best interest—rules we create for ourselves are statements of who we want to become. They serve as guardrails when we are not at our best, especially when we are tired, hungry, or emotional. Personal rules are like signs on a hiking trail showing us whether we are heading in the right direction. 

And if we are off track? All we have to do is get back on it.