Sometime around late 1999 or early 2000, I experimented with an evening practice that quickly took root: each night while getting ready for bed, I counted off ten good things from that day.
There were no rules about what could or couldn’t be included in the list, and nothing was too big or too small. Had lunch with a friend. Got the dog to take his medicine. Breathing better today while recovering from a cold. Saw the planet Venus in the sky. Sibling got a new job. Rescuers found someone alive in the rubble on the other side of the Earth. Mended a hole in a sock.
Even on my very worst days, I engaged in this practice before closing my eyes to sleep. Over the decades since, this minute or two has helped me keep a broader perspective on the world, and it’s likely saved my sanity many times over.
A few months after I started my “nightly good things” practice, I traveled cross-country to visit a friend. I’d gotten up before dawn for a first flight at 6 a.m., then a connecting flight, then a bus, then a ferry, and lastly a long car ride to my final destination. I was flat-out exhausted when I arrived, and I was grateful when the sun went down and it was time for bed.
But then I couldn’t sleep.
Insomnia isn’t an unusual companion in the darker hours, but this was ridiculous. I tossed and turned, but couldn’t lull myself to sleep. Then I realized what was wrong: I hadn’t done my “ten things” practice. Before that night, I didn’t know what a release valve it was to simply count off on my fingers. Lying in the dark, I named ten good things from the day, then quickly fell asleep.
In more recent years, I’ve found myself calling on this practice multiple times a day. It’s a way for me to acknowledge that not everything is terrible, and it helps to soothe me when I’m feeling anxious, frustrated, or fundamentally gutted. I can check in every few hours and add five more things to the list — our internet connection is working, I had a good breakfast, there’s a rabbit snacking on clover in the yard, my father’s plane landed safely, I saw a mind-expanding new image from the James Webb Space Telescope — and in a few seconds, I’m feeling more centered.
With all of the true awfulness in the world, and with my daily challenges with chronic pain and disability, M often comments on my balanced attitude and optimism. I believe this small habit plays a role. “Ten good things” is a tiny gratitude practice. It can take less than a minute, once a day. But those minutes of presence and appreciation add up.