Do your rules make you feel like a loser?

Ouch. (Photograph of wrestler Earl McCready and an unlucky opponent by Sam Hood, 1937. From the collection of the State Library of New South Wales)

I was playing outside with one of my nephews (because I am an exceedingly lucky person, I have five of them). We were throwing poorly inflated balls back and forth, following the kind of arbitrary and unfair rules favored by young children.

In other words, he made the rules, and I followed them.

We threw our balls in the same direction, where they landed side by side in the wet grass. “You lost that time,” he said. “You say, “Darn!”

“Oh darn,” I said obediently. “Better luck next time.”

We picked up our balls and threw them again, this time in each other’s general direction. "I won!” he said. We high-fived.

Just a few years on the planet, and this kid already understands winning as good and losing as bad. Or at least, he didn’t want to do any losing.

My nephew has lots of games ahead, from board games to video games to sports, and I’m sure he will have ample opportunities to practice losing — and winning, too. It is an important skill to be emotionally prepared for either outcome without equating it with one’s self-worth, or as Kipling put it, to “meet with Triumph and Disaster/And treat those two impostors just the same.” Games allow us to experiment with these dynamics when the stakes are low, preparing us to stay calm in high-stakes situations.

That said, some of us impose competitive stakes when none exist, and it can be an exhausting way to live life: Needing to be the first, the best, the most powerful. Just as we can benefit from examining the stories we tell ourselves, it’s worth taking a look at the rules we live by in order to discard those that are no longer serving us.

Here are a few such rules I’ve come across recently from friends, colleagues, and students:

“When someone makes a mistake, it’s my responsibility to point it out.”

“Hard work is cheating — it means you aren’t smart or talented.”

“If I don’t get it right on the first try, I’m a failure.”

“Unless a project is for a grade, it doesn’t matter.”

“Asking for help is for losers.”

Thinking of life as a game is not a problem in itself. However, if it becomes a game you must win or can’t win, you will be miserable. To be happier and stimulate better gameplay, we can replace each of the unhelpful rules above with a new rule:

“No one has to be perfect.” Throw the ball back in and keep playing!

“You get out what you put in.” Talent and intelligence increase with consistent effort over time.

“I can take all the time I need.” Failure is not a permanent outcome or identity.

“I get to decide what I want to get out of this project.” It could be for fun, for profit — measure it however you want.

“Asking for help is my secret weapon.” If you want to move forward quickly, find out the shortcut from someone who has been where you want to go.

Adults aren’t the only ones with rules. Children have them, too, as rigid and prohibitive as a Victorian schoolmarm’s. If you look for them, you will find them. As these rules come up, gently help to identify and discard them, working together to replace them with more flexible, useful rules.

The will to win is a strong drive for some people, motivating them to go to great lengths to achieve and succeed. As long as it’s working for you, there’s no problem; but when the game isn’t fun anymore, it’s time to do something else. That’s one of my most important rules — feel free to use it!