We’ve all been there.

You wake up and sigh out loud, thinking sarcastically, “Great, another day at the office,” or “That was a rough night — how bad is today going to be?” You drag yourself out of bed, already dreading what’s ahead. You move around with a scowl, preparing for another day in the grind.

Then you get to work and see others walking in with bright smiles and a spring in their step. “How on earth can they be happy about anything this early?” you wonder.

Here’s the truth: it’s a choice.

You have a choice. You can let the ordinary annoyances wear you down — the early start, the slow traffic, the lukewarm coffee — or you can choose to think differently. From the very first moment you open your eyes, you can decide to look for the good.

And why should you?

Because waking up is a gift. It’s the beginning of a brand-new day. A chance to do something kind. A chance to make a difference — even if that difference is simply taking care of yourself. That is your mission. But you have to choose to accept it.

Opening your eyes in the morning is a gift; the start of a day of opportunity; the chance to make a difference to someone, even if that someone is you.

Recently, I watched an episode of The West Wing that really got to me. With my own mental health struggles never far beneath the surface, I felt it deeply.

An elderly man — a homeless war veteran — had fallen asleep one cold winter night on a bench near a war memorial. He had no possessions, just a Purple Heart he kept in his pocket. The only thing that led to him receiving the dignified burial he deserved was a jacket he’d been given. A jacket that had once belonged to a White House staff member, identified by a forgotten card left in the pocket. That simple connection ensured someone cared enough to honour his life.

He didn’t wake up that morning.

That story has stayed with me. Life is precious. Every time you open your eyes is a blessing. A reminder that you are still here. That you still can — whatever that means for you today.

But it’s not just the mornings that matter.

Evenings can be harder. You’re tired, worn out, and there’s no fresh start to look forward to — not yet. But again, you have a choice.

Do you choose to feel joy when your fur-baby goes crazy with excitement just because you came home? Or do you get annoyed by the barking?

Do you appreciate the partner who timed dinner perfectly to greet you as you walk in? Or do you zero in on the leaves in the yard that didn’t get raked?

Do you remember to be grateful for the roof over your head, the electricity to power your dishwasher, the warmth of your home?

Or do you grumble that there’s nothing good on TV?

There are chances for happiness and positivity every second of the day. The size of the moment doesn’t matter. Gratitude is small.

Train your brain to look for those moments. Start small. Write down one thing each day. Keep a Gratitude Journal. You might be amazed at the shift in your mindset — and in your life.

Because when you choose to see the good, when you practice being grateful, something magical happens:

It spreads.