Make Time for Gratitude Every Day

When we begin a daily practice of recognizing the positive events that occur and the pleasant encounters we have with others, we will start being more thankful as the days pass. Perhaps it’s someone who holds the door for you at the supermarket, the nice conversation you have with a stranger while at the coffee shop, or a hug with someone you love. These are the small moments, and often the ones we forget. Savor their beauty and what they tell you about mankind-that we do live among many good people.

Look at Everything in a New Way

Simply reframe your perception: each of us has had dreams that for one reason or another, we do not achieve. And we may have made choices that perhaps were not the best. Yet, rather than allowing regret to overtake us, we must celebrate all the other goals we’ve accomplished and positive choices we’ve made.

Human nature so often leads us to perceive the one negative in a sea of positives. But we can retrain ourselves to learn the lessons embedded in our mistakes, and allow ourselves to feel pride in the beauty we are capable of. All it takes is a little shift. You’ll see.

Learn the Language of Kindness

Teach the English language abroad! With programs all over the world, you can choose which country you want to teach in. Often, housing is provided by a host family-or you can live on your own. Usually prior teaching experience is not required, though you can earn a certificate in Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL). Visit interexchange.org for more information.

Write Letters and Send Postcards

The things that make me the happiest have emotional and physical effects. These effects are felt even more when they are done for someone else. One of the most lasting is writing a personal letter. Born in the transitional time between letters and computers, many people in my generation have already shunned snail mail as a way to communicate. This makes letters rare, but a very inexpensive surprise.My grandmother was one of seven children, and they communicated with a round-robin letter. From mailbox to mailbox, they would add an update on their life and send it around to the next sibling. She taught me that letters are a valuable form of communication, something she’s emphasized as her memory slowly fades. I got into the habit of writing letters and during the times where I was most stressed, I would write a letter. Letters live somewhere between thoughts and stories. They are confidential and a piece of yourself that you can choose to scrap or share.

When I receive a letter, especially from someone whom I haven’t heard from in a while, I get a rush of endorphins, because I’m holding proof that the friend thought of me. It’s the same rush I get when someone is considerate or goes out of their way to help me. Most friends reciprocate with a call to say how happy they were to open a personal note rather than another bill.

I studied epistolary literature in college, often using my break from studying as a chance to write letters. Perhaps letters will go the way of Wells Fargo wagons, but I’ll single-handedly support the post office as long as my friends have addresses and my fingers can write. Letters are my personal therapy, my rush of endorphins, my connection with those I love, and my alone time-my regular serving of happiness.

Make It Count

My boyfriend is first-generation American Chinese, an “ABC”. His family was unable to vote or even own property until the Civil Rights Act was passed in the sixties. He tells his children to “make it count” and passionately follows local, national and international events and politics. Get educated about the governance of your own neighborhood in addition to the national political landscape. Exercise your right to vote. Voting is a sacred right that is one of the most important parts of our political system. Be informed about what is going on in your country, know what ideas you support and are against, and vote on each Election Day to speak for the public-you will be heard.

An Extra Hour to Do Lots of Good

When you turn your clocks back one hour for daylight savings, make sure to spend that extra hour doing something productive. This is like a second chance at tackling the day. What did you need to get done yesterday that you didn’t? Here is one great way to spend that hour: cruise over to myphilanthropedia.org to find your perfect match of an organization to donate to or volunteer with. I learned about this website from a TED Talk and discovered this vital service. Philanthropedia rates verified, financially responsible charities according to how much great work they’re doing. Today, 3,121 experts have participated in Philanthropedia’s research, providing reviews on 767 top nonprofits across 36 causes. I have bookmarked this on my desktop and check in often.

A Plate of Cookies Can Change a Life

You know how certain memories sometimes remain crystal clear as though they are trapped in the amber of your consciousness?. While I don’t know nearly enough about how the brain works, I suspect these shards of memory that stay with us are some of the most important events of our lives to be pondered upon for all that they contain. They might be teachable moments for us to draw upon. While the neuroscience aspects allude me, I do know this memory is a life lesson:

My besties and I like to have a cup of tea now and again, the fancy kind with tea cakes, cupcakes, and cookies that are almost too beautiful to eat. During my decade in the Lower Haight, my dear friends and I got together once a month, taking turns at each other’s houses. I was excited to be hosting one lovely spring day and planned everything to the tee-lemon bars with lime icing, mini cupcakes with icing that looked like lace, and my favorite black and white cookies, chocolate on one side, vanilla on the other. I even had brightly colored paper napkins with sassy wild women quotes on them. 

I was working in Berkeley and living in San Francisco, which meant that just getting across the Bay Bridge was going to be an adventure. On this day, it was going to be a miracle. I was terrified my friends would be standing at the front door, stamping their nicely shod feet, waiting for me as I navigated the traffic. I surrendered to it, knowing my anxiety would not change a thing. Plus, I had my secret weapon-the nicest array of confections ever. How could they be mad at me when they were being served stunningly beautiful cookies on napkins that reminded them they are fabulous?

Finally, my lane of traffic oozed off the Fremont exit into downtown San Francisco. I was going to bust one of my special moves and drive down a one-way arterial to avoid the clogged streets. To do that, I had to drive past the Transbay Terminal, one of the most desolate and derelict spots in all the greater bay Area. I was chugging along and feeling good about my bag of goodies, when I was stopped again by a Muni bus that appeared to be lumbering along at maybe three miles per hour. But I still had my special treats and my confidence remained intact. 

I looked to my left and a mother and her toddler were standing on the raised median about two feet away from my car. She looked to be not much older than a teenager herself, and had a big bruise on her cheek and a frightened look. Her little boy was hugging her knee, trying to stay warm in the arctic wind that blasts San Francisco as soon as the sun sets. I smiled at them and she smiled back, and I saw then that she was missing at least one tooth. In this moment, I just knew she had run away from an abusive home and was getting herself and her son to safety. I also knew in that moment that they needed money. I scrambled around in my messy purse but could only find a five-dollar bill, as I had spent all my cash on the sweets. I grabbed the pretty paper bag filled with boxes of delicacies and shoved it into her hands along with the wadded up bill. The look on her face was what will stay with me a lifetime. She was surprised, and the stress drained out of her face and I could see how pretty she was. The bus shot forward and I had to drive away but I managed to shout back at her, “These are the best cookies in the world, so everything is going to be okay!” I looked in the rearview mirror and saw her bend down. She opened a box and lovingly fed her little boy one of my treasured black and whites. They were laughing and her son was even dancing around. My heart lifted as I drove away. I was especially pleased that this young woman was going to be reminded about her fabulousness by sassy paper napkins. 

My girlfriends and I microwaved popcorn that night but nobody minded. We also ended up having a much deeper and richer discussion about real things, no shop or shopping talk, no boyfriend problems. We talked about how lucky we were and ways we could give back to the world. 

It is funny how I knew those cookies were going to save the night. I guess I just didn’t knowwhose.