Hello friends,

Bengaluru has turned properly hot, which gave me all the excuse I needed to make my way to Ibaco, my favourite ice cream parlour, last week. I go there every summer and order the same thing: bean vanilla with rainbow sprinkles and two candied cherries.

But this summer of 2026 was going to be different. I walked in with a firm intention to try something new. I was going to be adventurous with my one precious life.

Ibaco has an absurd number of flavours, most of them requiring a tasting and a conversation with Sarita, the person behind the counter, before you know what you are ordering. Sarita, who knows me well, promptly steered me towards the new summer flavours. I sampled three. All of them interesting. One of them a real find.

I could sense a thrill going down my spine.

But when I opened my mouth to order, out came the bean vanilla with rainbow sprinkles and two candied cherries. In a waffle cone instead of a cup.

On the walk home, I chuckled at myself rather ruefully. I went in with full intention, did the work of sampling, found something I liked, and still ordered my standard.

I have been thinking about that walk home ever since. Because I suspect you recognise this moment too. And I suspect it is not only about ice cream.

Enjoy the read!

Siri

The Loop You Cannot See

In the 1993 film Groundhog Day, Phil Connors, a cynical weather reporter, gets trapped in a time loop. He wakes up every morning on the same day, 2nd February, in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. Same alarm. Same song. Same faces. Same choices.

For a long stretch of the film, he does what most of us would do. He defaults. The loop is invisible to everyone around him. Only Phil knows he is in it.

This is what makes the film such an uncomfortable watch. Not the loop itself. The fact that he knows, and stays anyway. In real life, no one shows us the loop. We just live it. And tell ourselves we are fine with it.

Why the Brain Keeps Ordering the Same Thing

Barry Schwartz, in his work on the paradox of choice, helps explain why awareness alone is not enough to break the loop. The more options we have, the higher the imagined cost of getting it wrong.

This is not a limitation. It is a beautifully efficient piece of engineering.

In survival terms, the bean vanilla is always the sensible bet. You do not know if you will like the new custard apple flavour, and what is the point in potentially ruining your limited chances at ice cream this summer?

This is exactly what Phil Connors is up against. The loop is not just external. It is running inside him too. Once he realises he is in it, he spends a long stretch trying to manipulate it: using his knowledge of the repeating day to get what he wants, impress people, avoid consequences. He is working the system rather than genuinely changing.

It is only when he stops trying to extract advantage from the loop and starts acting from a different place inside himself that things shift.

The day does not change. He does.

What This Looks Like in Your Work and Life

When we make familiar or default choices, it is not just about the brain conserving energy. There is an emotional payoff in the decision too.

The payoff is the relief of already knowing how this ends. The familiar role, the known dynamic, the default answer: none of them are exciting, but they are certain. And certainty, even when it costs us, is something the brain will choose over the unknown almost every time.

The default does not show up as fear or avoidance. It presents as practicality. As maturity. As knowing yourself.

I've always been better in structured environments. I'm not really a creative person. Better the devil you know. This is just who I am.

These are not self-knowledge. They are the brain ordering bean vanilla on your behalf, and calling it a preference.

The person who keeps taking late night calls despite the toll on their sleep and mental health. The person who keeps replying to emails over the weekend instead of switching off. The person who replays the idea of quitting instead of taking action to speak up or draw a boundary. Not because it is working, but because it is habit. It is the bean vanilla.

And the brain does not distinguish between low stakes and high stakes. The cost of defaulting at Ibaco is a mildly disappointing walk home. The cost of defaulting on where you work, how you work, what you are willing to ask for, who you are becoming: that accumulates differently. And it does so slowly enough that by the time you notice, the bean vanilla has been your order for years.

The resentment comes later. On the walk home, carrying the waffle cone.

To Reflect

This is not about forcing yourself to always choose the unfamiliar. Sometimes the bean vanilla genuinely is what you want. The point is to know the difference: is this a real preference, or is the brain protecting you from the discomfort of choosing?

Three questions worth sitting with:

1. What is your secret intention here that you have been withholding even from yourself? What do you actually want from this decision? Write it in a single sentence, in your own words, before you look at any of the options.

2. What is driving your current preference? Is it the fear of uncertainty, or the relief of familiarity?

3. What are your real options, once you remove the ones the brain pre-eliminated? What is still on the board if you put the conservative filters down, just for a moment?

You do not have to order the custard apple every time. But it is worth making that choice consciously, rather than letting your brain make it for you while you are distracted by Ibaco's chalkboard.

Siri's Pick

​Decisive by Chip Heath and Dan Heath.

Bad decisions rarely come from bad intentions. They come from a flawed process: too narrow a frame, too much attachment to the first option, too little space to genuinely evaluate.

A practical book that will change how you notice the moments your brain has already decided before you realised you were choosing.

Bye for now.

Siri 🌱🌀

P.S. If you would like to work with me, drop me an email at siri@sanerworklife.com and let's talk.