Must You?

Don Miguel Ruiz, in his book on Toltec wisdom entitled The Four Agreements, argues that we become “domesticated” by automatically agreeing with many beliefs, biases and choice-limiting rules, starting at birth. Our concepts of self, right and wrong, beauty and ugliness, good and bad are the products of these agreements, which extend to what we believe we must and must not do. The problem, he says, is that most of them are bullshit. 

Ruiz does not have a problem with commitments, just those made before we know any better. To live well, we must break agreements that are not based in truth and make new ones that feel right. 

Musts are essentially agreements with ourselves and others. Over time, many of our musts become disconnected from the commitments to which they were originally bound. We may no longer know why we “have to” do certain things; we just do them.

We are naturally motivated to do things that pique our curiosity, to perform experiments designed to test our predictions. We will also respond to emergencies, taking action to avoid catastrophic consequences.

In the absence of interest and urgency, we decide what to do using expectations, desires and physical or emotional necessities. Deciding to do something because we should, want or feel the need to take action does not mean it will be done.

Must, in contrast, conveys certainty. We rarely use the word “must” in thought or speech. Instead, we think or say that we “have to” do whatever it is we must do.

Must can be heroic, invoking duty, honor and commitment.

Must can be coercive, implying the absence of reasonable alternatives due to forces over which we have no control. 

The meaning of “must” matters because it motivates us in different ways. Whether we’re bound by duty or forced by circumstances, we are more likely to do things we believe we have to do, which is why musts form a smaller percentage of the Undone than shoulds, wants or needs. 

It’s also why we try to fill our days with musts, moving from one to the next rather than squandering valuable time weighing the pros and cons of optional activities. 

We may become completely occupied with musts, extremely productive, efficient and effective, doing only what we have to do, fully committed, solidly booked. We may convince ourselves that this is the only way to avoid unnecessary choice, to tackle tasks without hesitation and follow through. When every waking moment is spoken for, no time is left to equivocate, hesitate or mentally debate whether we’re making the “right” choices. No thinking. Just doing.  Caught up in the frenzy of what must be done, we find respite from endless choices about what we want, need or should be doing. We’ll take better care of ourselves later, when we have the chance. We’ll get back to friends when things slow down. We’ll relax when all is said and done. 

We forget about everything else, but the Undone remembers. Hiding behind musts does not make shoulds, wants and needs disappear. 

The Undone is omnivorous. It does not distinguish between the things we should have done or needed to do. It finds unfulfilled wants and broken promises as appetizing as missed deadlines, neglected duties and ethical lapses. Its strength, which is measured by the degree to which it unsettles us, increases in direct proportion to the guilt contained in its diet, and no dish is richer in guilty nutrients than leftover musts. 

Freedom of choice is stressful and time consuming. Agreeing to go along with what others claim to have figured out - or tell us we must do - is faster. 

Must’s allure lies in its resolve. Saying “I have to get this done” sounds stronger than “I should get this done.” But what we really mean by “have to” depends on the consequences of not doing whatever it is, which can be inferred from context. “I have to go to work,” for example, implies “…or I’ll get fired,” whereas, “I have to go to the gym” suggests “…or I’ll continue to sit here.” Having to do something to prevent job loss is stronger than having to do something to prevent doomscrolling. 

Saying our musts out loud is a good test of their strength and character, and is much faster than pondering their relative importance. Those followed by “or else (insert negative consequence),” are circumstantial: Given the circumstances, we have no choice. Those followed by “because I said I would” are relational: We gave our word and will stand behind it. Promises we make to ourselves are frequently broken. The Undone eats these up.

Importantly, many musts are the backbone of routine. We no longer think about why we do them because we have, at some point, consciously decided they’re not worth thinking about. “I have to” becomes “This is what I do,” because doing whatever it is makes us feel good, avoids bad outcomes or is a standing commitment. These we say aloud only when trying to change our routine, or to check in with ourselves. 

Brushing our teeth every morning, responding to emails, paying bills, staying abreast of the latest news and checking social media feeds are things we do on a regular basis, but “have to” might only apply to teeth and bills. 

Musts are only useful when they’re true. Used to avoid disappointing others, they’re shoulds. Used to ensure enjoyment, they’re wants. Used to maintain health, they’re needs. 

Most importantly, musts used to avoid hard choices become easy prey for the Undone.