Which day would you rather have?

Day #1:

• Got up before I was ready.
• Had to take care of everyone else.
• Had to drive to Boston in rush-hour traffic.
• Had to wait for hours to see a doctor.
• Had to drive home in rush-hour traffic.
• Had to pick up my son and put him to bed.

Day #2:

• Got to get up and play with my son and enjoy his company, along with my husband’s.
• Got to take a hot shower before my husband left for work.
• Got to take my son to preschool so he could play with his friends for the morning.
• Got to visit two of the people I love most in my life.
• Got to drive to Boston with one of the people I love most with plenty of time to spare so I didn’t need to rush.
• Got to see a doctor who gave us plenty of time and answered all our questions.
• Got to see another loved one after her busy workday.
• Got to drive home knowing that my son was in good hands until I got there.
• Got to visit with a good friend while picking up my son.
• Got to read my son stories and put him to bed.

Thank goodness I had Day #2! I could have listed more things I “got to” do, like listen to a book on CD (one of my favorite things.)

If you have a day coming up that seems daunting, as this one did when I first thought about doing it, try changing the perspective.

First, write out your day from the perspective of the martyr (as I did in Day #1). If you make yourself the victim, everyone else becomes a villain. You only need to write a few lines to get the picture.

Next, try writing your day with you as the hero or the clown. Or, as I did in Day #2, write from the perspective of someone who is grateful for everything that happens.

Because I did this in a conscious way, I was very aware of all the synchronicities and blessings that appeared in my day. I got a great cup of coffee before I hit the road, which I totally enjoyed, and I had the best lunch I’ve had in months at a café in the lobby of the hospital of the building where I spent the day. Even the drive home, which was in rush-hour traffic and took two hours, was fine because I took the time to grab a snack before I left the hospital. If I’d been operating in martyr mode, I would have ignored my rumbling stomach (believe me, I’ve done it before!) and thought about how hard my life was.

The 10 minutes I took to do this exercise turned my day from a catastrophe into an experience of grace and gratitude.

Maybe I was a little bit better company, too!

Try this exercise and see what happens for you.