Waking up in the morning is tough, but after a minute of staring at my ceiling, I can usually muster the strength to get myself out of bed. The important thing is to smile first thing when you wake up, regardless of whether you have to force it or not. Try to think of the reasons you can look forward to the day— getting out of bed happy makes a huge difference. I’ll then hop to making the tea I prepared over the weekend (coffee is too bitter), using a long process I’ve perfected over the last couple of years. Processes are important. With process comes stability. Sure, I could get some premade & bagged tea for cheap at the store, but having a process allows you to get comfortable with a routine, plus it’s satisfying. When you’ve come up with a perfect recipe, or a secret route to work, it makes cooking that recipe or going that route feel all the more personal. We like familiar things— the more comfortable we are with something, the easier it is to be happy, and the best way to get comfortable with something is to know it inside and out. Since ancient times, traditions have been the backbones of society. Long before organized religions were invented for the purpose of improving society, ancient mythologies mandated this sort of practice. Sure, it might technically be more inconvenient to do a ritual to the luck god every morning, but that inconvenience can make even the act of just, well, living that much more satisfying. Our lives are made up of a billion little mundane happenings, and by turning just a few of those actions into something more meaningful, we can turn our lives from a tedious, monotonous slog into something purposeful and deliberate. Either way, it’s time for work. I put on some clothes and walk to the station— while normally I’d have some music playing from headphones, walking without music can be just as enjoyable if you really pay attention to the sounds. The morning (depending on the city) can be the best time to listen to the world. Most people are too tired to talk too loud this early, and you can usually enjoy some bird calls if you listen carefully. The train makes me a little sad. So many people I see commuting look so unsatisfied, and while I don’t expect them to be singing and dancing, I feel as if there would be a hint of life in their eyes if they knew they were living with a real purpose. I think what provides life meaning is a sufficient drive. Having an endgame goal that you’re working towards to is important, but you don’t have to stress yourself out by thinking of something super specific. In fact, keeping your goals broad can allow you to feel like you’re still working towards that goal even though you aren’t spending all of your time on it. My current goal is to make something beautiful. When I finish a beautiful book, or movie, or see beauty in any art form, I’m always filled with respect for the artist, as making something like that isn’t easy. To make something honestly beautiful, one has to put their whole self into it, and exposing oneself to anyone, especially a wide audience, isn’t easy. Creating art like this requires a mastery of the medium enough to be able to go about creating whatever you want, as any dilution of a beautiful idea is a dilution of self, which takes away from the beauty. On the way home from work, I pick up a bag of extra food at the store for dinner. Cooking is another routine that many people let go to waste— with a great payoff once you get good. All the thought of routine and beauty has made me hungry, and once I return home and finish cooking, I down my dinner with a lust reserved only for the climax of a long day. I don’t think I’ve discovered the secret to a happy life or anything. Searching for a rose-colored life is pointless— it’s best to make do with what you already have.