My friend Delisa and I recently took up racquetball. Although we were both in search of something to save us from the endless repetitions of cycles and treadmills at the health club, Delisa wasn't sure racquetball fit the bill.

"The game from hell?" she asked when I proposed we try a game. "Have you watched how fast that little ball moves around the court? Do you really want to play with a grown woman who might fall screaming to the floor in a heap if it comes her way?"

I'll admit that little ball did seem to be traveling awfully fast when I watched experienced players knock, whack and slam it through the air. No doubt if you weren't quick on your toes, fleshy contact with the ball would yield a tremendously colorful, not to mention painful, bruise.

"Besides," said Delisa. "It seems pretty competitive. With lots of rules."

"We could make up our own rules," I suggested. "We could play it any way we want."

Intrigued with how this might unfold, Delisa finally agreed. The health club loaned us rackets, eye gear and a small blue rubber ball. Gearing up, we hesitantly batted the ball against the wall, dodging when it came too close, laughing at our ungainly form.

Surprisingly, however, after just one hour, Delisa and I discovered we liked racquetball. Our only rule was to try and keep the ball in play. In the spirit of cooperation and fun, there we were getting our exercise, breaking a sweat, even laughing. Surely this was a great thing.

In subsequent games, Delisa and I got fancy. In-between our races to and fro the polished wood floor, betwixt overhand smashes and inelegant yet functional between-the-knees upward swings to keep the ball in play, we held quick-witted discussions on all sorts of topics: time-travel, dreams, steel drum bands, even the tao of racquetball.

"Racquetball is like life," Delisa said with a smart blow to the little blue ball, sending it from floor to wall to ceiling and back again. "How's that?" I asked, swatting it back to her with a triple-brunke, a move I've been perfecting.

"It's not about keeping score; it's about playing the game. And we can make it better by changing our perspective -- by making up our own rules." True enough. By recreating the rules of racquetball, the game from hell was transformed to one of fun, collaboration, creative moves and friendly banter that sometimes led to interesting insights.

How often do we remember that we needn't simply accept the games someone else created or that others engage in so heartily? A side step out of the rules is sometimes a marvelous thing, allowing us new insights on why we do the things we do. We all have the freedom to refashion the "rules" of our habits, beliefs and perspectives, thus improving our own game of life. The game gets to be even more fun when we open our consciousness to create variations on the rules that fit our own desires, needs and skills.

As we move into another year of possibilities, we might well be reminded of the countless opportunities that exist each day for us to change our position in the game. From finances to healthcare, relationships to dreams and goals, we are always free to review the rules we hold, keeping those that work well and recreating the ones that don't.