Living in the Good Days
The first habit I’d point to if you want to get unstuck
Listen here.
I was at my desk this morning working on my book when I caught myself smiling about yesterday.
Saturday started out as an ordinary day. I was typing at this same desk when Susanna walked in with her coffee.
“Would you like to go on a walk today?”
Around 10 AM, we set out with our dog Charlie and headed toward the small lake near our house. The sun was out. Mid-70s and no humidity. This is arguably the best time of the year in Arkansas. Charlie made a few new friends at the dog park. Susanna and I talked the whole way there and the whole way back. Thirty-five years married, and I still love being in her presence.
It was a nothing-planned day. And it was the best day.
This morning I sat back from my keyboard and thought: I’m living in the good days right now. Thank you, God.
I almost missed it.
Someone asked me at coffee recently about what habits get me unstuck. What helped me start defining success and joy on my own terms, rather than someone else’s. Over the next few Sundays, I’m going to walk through them, one at a time.
I’m starting with gratitude. It’s the one that changed everything else.
In the fall of 2022, I started most mornings the same way. I’d pray. I’d thank God for the day before. I’d write down a few things I was grateful for.
Some days, the entries were big. Most days, they were small.
Here are some notes from one of those weeks when I first started this practice:
Monday: I published my first blog post on Substack yesterday. I also got a great workout in as the sun was coming up.
Tuesday: I grabbed coffee with a struggling friend. I made a difference simply by listening to him.
Wednesday: Yesterday was a tough day at work. So… I’m glad I woke up. (Some days, the things you’re thankful for are smaller. That’s fine.)
Thursday: Today was much better. It’s amazing what a good night of sleep will do. The issues that seemed insurmountable yesterday? I made progress on them today.
Friday: Sadie is my faithful companion in the mornings. She loves to be at my side. (If you have a dog, you know.)
That week looked like every other week. Some good, some hard, some in between. The difference was that I was paying attention.
You might think this sounds corny. I get it. I would have rolled my eyes at this five years ago.
The science isn’t corny.
Researchers at Indiana University asked one group of people to write gratitude letters and another group to do nothing. Three months later, they put both groups in a brain scanner. The gratitude writers showed lasting changes in the medial prefrontal cortex — the part of the brain tied to emotion regulation and social connection.
Three months after they stopped writing.
This practice rewires you. Mine got rewired in about six months.
Here’s what I think happens, sitting on this side of two and a half years of doing it.
You can’t change most of what’s coming at you. The bad day at work. The family stuff. The news. Your knees are cracking and popping more than they used to. Life is going to keep being life.
But where your attention goes is your choice.
When you spend two minutes every morning writing down what you’re thankful for, you train your eyes to look for it. By Tuesday afternoon, you start noticing the good things without trying. By month three, your defaults shift. The hard days are still hard. They just don’t take your attention anymore.
And here’s the part I didn’t expect.
Once your attention isn’t stuck on yourself (your problems, your worries, your stuck-ness), you have something left to give other people. You hear them better. You show up better. You become useful in a way you weren’t before.
That’s where the magic is. Not in the journal. In what being intentionally grateful frees you up to do for everybody else.
If you want to try it, here’s the whole thing:
Tomorrow morning, before you touch your phone, write down three things you were grateful for yesterday.
That’s it. Don’t make it long. Just three things. Even if one of them is “I woke up.”
Do it for a week and see what happens. If nothing changes, you’re out two minutes a day. You would have spent your time scrolling on your phone anyway.
If something changes (I’m betting it will), we’ll keep talking next Sunday about the next habit.
I almost missed how great Saturday was. The walk. Charlie. My wife next to me. The lake. The sun.
It was already a great day. I just needed eyes to see it.
You’ve got days like that this week. Maybe today.
Don’t miss them.
See you next Sunday.
P.S. If you missed it, here’s a link to a recent masterclass I did called
Why your success feels empty. Check it out.
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