Deciding to have a bad day

Today was supposed to be a terrible day, I knew ahead of time. I was up far too early to feel well-rested, I’ve spent the whole day in airports, and I have many miles to go before I sleep. When I do arrive at my destination, I’m going to have to put up with a lot of hassle before I can get my stuff home, including swinging by to pick up two cats who will detest the car ride and soil their carriers, and the subsequent cat-bathing that must ensue, probably at 2 AM by that point. I won’t see friends for another month. And this signifies the end of my vacation and the end of my favourite season of the year.

But even though circumstances point to the idea that today is a Very Bad Day, I refuse to accept that conclusion. If I let myself decide ahead of time that I’m going to be miserable today, then I will be. In fact, I will be extra miserable, because on top of all the above misfortune, I will be unhappy about having such a bad day. I can’t avoid the unfortunate circumstances, but I can avoid being unhappy because of a bad day.

To have a bad day, I have to decide that I’m having one. Only I can decide whether my day is going to be awful or not. If I decide that I am going to have a bad day, then I will; but if I decide that I am having a good day, then it will be so.

How can I possibly have a good day when it’s going to be like I described? Because I only described half of it. What I didn’t describe was that I’m going to get home and sleep in my own familiar bed, that I’m going to have access to all of my stuff again, that I’m going to see my cats. I didn’t describe that I travelled vast distances and saw all kinds of people, or that I got to look out the plane window at all the tiny houses below and play the game of imagining what they must look like from the ground. I didn’t describe that I spent the whole day with very little obligation– the only thing I have to do for most of today is make sure I get on both of the planes that I am supposed to get on. It’s not work; my mind is free to wander; I can read or write or listen to music or play video games. All of that stress is unnecessary, since there’s very little that I actually have to do. And I didn’t even begin to describe how good it is to be alive– to be able to see and hear and think and perceive, to be able to wonder about things and search for answers, to stretch my legs after sitting for a while, to breathe air in and out, to listen to my own heartbeat, to drink this unexpectedly delicious strawberry-peach smoothie that I got at the airport. To feel, to think, to know, to be. Even though my back hurts from sitting uncomfortably, that is only one small sensation among a world of wonderful ones. If I weren’t here, if I didn’t exist, if I weren’t so beautifully alive, I wouldn’t be able to experience any of the wonder around me today. How can I call this a bad day? It’s full of the most amazing things. I am lucky to be able to have this experience of living.

All I did here was recognise that there were a lot of good things that I wasn’t paying attention to. I had been only paying attention to the bad things– but of course that’s going to make me unhappy. I try to catch myself when I’m doing that, and pay attention to the good things instead.