Something Good Every Day — Introduction
If I’m being honest, I tend to lean negative. It’s not that I walk around gloomy or cynical, but my brain has a talent for cataloguing what’s wrong, what’s broken, what’s irritating, and what’s disappointing. I even gratitude-journal every morning, and while that helps, I’ve realized I want something that comes after the day has happened—a way to end it on a note that reminds me there is still good everywhere if I pay attention.
So: a new project. “Something Good Every Day.”
Every evening I’ll write about one thing—something I saw, heard, read, or experienced—that was simply good. Not profound, not life-changing, not a solution to the world’s problems. Just something human, something hopeful, something that cuts through the noise.
The idea came to me right before we left for Thanksgiving break. I was walking down the street and saw two friends saying goodbye on the sidewalk. They had clearly just had breakfast or coffee together. They hugged, laughed, wished each other a warm Thanksgiving, and split off in opposite directions still smiling. That tiny moment stuck with me. In a world that feels like an endless scroll of Tumblr-drama, “going no-contact” announcements, and performative takes about everything under the sun, there are people out there who simply live their lives and enjoy each other. It lifted me more than it had any right to.
And then today’s “good” arrived while I was walking the dog.
Two houses down, a kid shot across the sidewalk on a sled like he was at the top of Vail. His dad had shoveled only half the front steps; the other half he had packed down into a tiny makeshift hill. Same with the sidewalk. Near the curb, he built a little snow ramp to stop the kids—not reckless, just thoughtful, and honestly kind of genius. The two kids were having the time of their lives sledding down those stairs. You could tell, even from down the street, that this would be one of those childhood memories that sticks forever.
Meanwhile, the four boys next door were all bundled up, playing in the snow, while their dad loaded them into the sled for a trip to Cricket Hill. Two dads, two sets of kids, a cold afternoon turned into something warm. Memories being made. Screens nowhere in sight. And maybe, just maybe, giving mom a well-deserved break.
That’s today’s good.
If I can find one moment like that each day—something simple, something real—I think it might tilt my perspective a little. Or at least remind me that the world isn’t as bleak as the algorithm wants me to believe.
It’s great to be alive.