This morning we woke up at the shore with four teenagers expecting pancakes for breakfast, and no eggs in the pantry. 

At Lisa’s suggestion I texted our neighbour to see if he might have a few, and he quickly texted back that he’d leave them on his porch for us. 

A few minutes later, still in my pyjamas, I ambled over to retrieve them. 

A simple everyday story, yet one packed with enough divergence from my past norms as to boggle my mind a little.

In my coaching work over the winter I returned often to the idea of having a personal “rule book” — “you never go outside of your house wearing pyjamas” might be one rule, for example — and my coach ultimately led me to the conclusion that rather than engaging in a rule winnowing exercise, I might just as well throw out the notion of having a rule book itself.

This morning’s pyjamas eggs mission was part of that project.