The wipers left grey lines across the windshield as I tried to clear the murky salt water splashed by the car in front of me.  The fan roared at full, working against the fog creeping from the sides and top of glass.  It was the worst February in Ontario could offer.  Just above freezing and enough to turn would be fluffy snow into penetrating, cold rain that easily soaks through your coat.  The expression on my face must have mirrored the gloom in the sky.

I was running late for a job I had only started a week earlier.  I had left the house in a funk that I had awoken with and carried through out my morning routine.  My daily meditation was 20 minutes of sitting and stewing in my own worries.  We had run out of eggs and my oatmeal was lifeless and seemed more like dryer lint mixed with pablum than a nutritious breakfast.  I had argued with my girlfriend about something I have since forgotten and remember only the heaviness in my chest and the crease that nearly brought my eyebrows together.

I needed a hair cut, my neck was bleeding from where the razor had gone off course, my shirt hadn’t seen an iron and I was sure I looked more panhandler than professional.  My car was making a strange sound as I turned the corner–surely an expensive fix–and my finger had finally worn through the hole in my glove.

Every self doubt and anything resembling anxiety was forefront in my mind.  Am I going to be able to do this job?  Why had they given me such a challenging first assignment?  I don’t think I have the skill set to do this.  Why am I so tired?  Why doesn’t she understand my point of view?  What a shitty day…

I suddenly came to and braked hard as the car in front of me slowed to turn into Tim Horton’s.  Man, what am I doing?  There was only one way the day was going to turn out if I kept up this thinking and it wasn’t one I would wish on anyone.  I needed to snap out of it and turn it around.

I remembered an audio book by Brian Tracy I had been listening to  the day before and Brian’s advice that the antidote to negative emotion was a focus on gratitude.  That the mind could not hold both thoughts of despair and of thankfulness simultaneously.

I was 10 minutes from the office as traffic slowed behind a city bus picking up soggy passengers at the next stop.  I had time to do this.  I gave myself the challenge:  think of 25 things to be grateful for… just not this weather… not this job.  Stop!  Try again.  OK, despite the weird sound, I had a car to get me to work unlike the poor folks standing in February rain.  That’s something I can be thankful for.  I’ve got an amazing family and a wonderful partner who love me.  I have a shelter over my head and a cozy bed to sleep in.  And really, the weather’s not so bad with a hot tea in hand. And I have books to read and movies to watch.  I have access to technology and tools that put the world’s information in my lap.  I have a healthy body, there are spring days to follow, the sun’s pretty cool…

My list surpassed 30 in no time and I was still going strong as I watched the gate lift in front of my car as I drove in to the parking lot.  And with it, the gloomy funk I had carried all morning had lifted as well.  The clouds seemed less foreboding and I had a renewed sense of purpose to my day.  I knew what I needed to do at work and how I would do it.  The cool rain felt refreshing on my face as the air filled my lungs and my body came alive as I walked across the parking lot.  I was going to be just fine.

Today was a pretty good day.

When the world weighs heavy and conspires against us, rather than follow the spiral downward, sometimes we need to hit the brakes and shift gears.  A quick mental list of anything good in our lives and feeling appreciative of those things is sometimes all it takes to get us back on the right road.  When we do this, we steer our mental cars from the muddy shoulder back to the dry pavement.