How to Have a Really Good Day
© 2024 Lane Wallace
Aviation for Women magazine, September/October issue, 2024
A couple of months ago, I wrote about the lessons I’d learned from my mom, who died at the end of February, at the age of 93. But I now find myself thinking about what I’ve learned from my dad.
My dad was born six days before my mom and spent 70 years loving, supporting, and encouraging her … hanging on by sheer force of will, the last couple of years, determined to outlive her so she’d never know the pain and fear of being in the world without him. When she died, he was right next to her, holding her hand. And then, his mission accomplished, he quietly slipped away to join her … Six days after we laid her to rest. It makes you wonder. Really.
Clearly, my dad had an incredibly strong heart and will. But what I … well, everyone, really … remembers about him isn’t how strong he was. It’s how happy he was. He didn’t have “gratitude moments.” He lived in a state of gratitude. No matter what was going right or wrong in his life. And since his passing, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about how, exactly, he managed that. Because if there’s one thing I’d like to inherit from him, it’s that ability to have a really good day … every single day.
Part of my dad’s outlook, of course, was a product of DNA and environment. He was blessed with an extraordinarily positive and emotionally stable personality and upbringing. But there was more to it than that. And that’s where the valuable lessons lie.
... if we tie our happiness to things we don’t control, we end up constantly stressed, worried, and dashed about by the whims of chance and the world.
The biggest reason my dad was able to have so many good days is that he simply chose to focus on what was good in each day, instead of what was difficult.
Most of us assume that in order to be happy, things have to be going well in our lives. But the first piece of wisdom my dad would offer is that we do ourselves a disservice by giving external events that kind of power over our state of mind. Because if we tie our happiness to things we don’t control, we end up constantly stressed, worried, and dashed about by the whims of chance and the world.
My dad understood that there was much that would happen to him that he had little power to affect or change. He had good bosses and awful bosses. The company that had employed him for 16 years laid him off when the company moved—at a time when jobs in his industry were scarce. He started a business and supported a family of five on savings for three years, only to see the business fail. His wife had numerous health crises, including three bouts with cancer. And he himself suffered a traumatic brain injury that, in addition to ending his career, slowly, over the course of 20 years, took away his independence and abilities, leaving him wheelchair-bound and dependent on caregivers.
And yet, he was happy.
What was his secret? I think it boiled down to three things.
The first is that he didn’t invest emotional energy in things he didn’t control. If they were good, they were like a nice, unexpected gift in the mail. If they were bad, they were simply a series of problems to be solved—in order. And he didn’t waste energy worrying about problems before they arose. He’d focus on the pieces he could control or influence, putting energy into coming up with a good response or plan. Then he’d take that action and see what happened next. His secret was understanding that life was a game in which you only got every other turn. You made your best play with the cards you had, but then you had to sit back and let the forces you didn’t control play out before you got another turn. And worrying about what the board was going to look like down the line, or what the other side was going to do, was a waste of time and energy.
The second is that he recognized, early on, how little impact things like money, power, status, and stuff had to do with happiness. He enjoyed his career and worked hard, partly because it allowed him to provide for his family, but also because he had a strong work ethic and derived satisfaction from delivering quality for people who were counting on him. But he didn’t worry about or strive for advancement, recognition, or personal achievements beyond that. He spent that energy on the things that fed his heart and soul, instead. His wife. His family. Working on his house and yard. Community volunteer efforts that created meaningful friendships and gave him a sense of fulfillment and purpose. Jobs could come and go, but he understood that if you have the basics of food and shelter, and you’re surrounded by a supportive community and people you love, you have everything you really need to be happy. Even when there wasn’t much money, he’d look around the dinner table at all of us, smile, and say “I’m rich.” And mean it.
That secure sense of already having what he needed to be happy also allowed him to shake off jerks and conflict more easily. Other people’s behavior fell into the category of events he couldn’t control. And since it didn’t touch what mattered most to him, it didn’t have, or he didn’t give it, the same power to ruin his day.
The third part of his secret was one of focus and choice. We often focus on the difficult parts of our days: things we worry about, conflicts facing us, the unpleasant tasks to be done. But that’s a choice we make. The biggest reason my dad was able to have so many good days is that he simply chose to focus on what was good in each day, instead of what was difficult. What he had, instead of what he lacked. What was happy, instead of what was unpleasant. He made a habit of seeking and focusing on all that was good and happy in his world, every day of his life. Right up until the end.
I will never master the art of happiness as well as my father did. But I recognize the wisdom of his approach. So in the weeks since his death, I’ve made a conscious effort to work on changing the mental bad habits I have that get in the way of having a good day. To worry less about the future. To let go of believing that outcomes are completely up to me to create; to focus instead on doing what I can at a given point, and then letting the universe take its turn, with a little more faith that I’ll cope with whatever comes next in its turn. To let go of the striving for professional achievements that require others’ assent. And to consciously seek and focus on what is good, and worthy of gratitude, every single day.
It doesn’t make everything all better. But I’m here to tell you, it makes a really big difference. Even when things are hard, it’s possible to feel rich, to feel happy, and to have a really good day.