By 6 a.m., it was already hot. Not “open the window” hot—revenge of the sun hot.

The kind of heat that shows up early to ruin your mood. I’d barely slept.

Fireworks were going off until 2 a.m.—because my neighborhood thinks Independence Day should last all year.

Every time I started to drift off—BOOM—another celebration of liberty right outside my window.

By morning, my patience was gone, my hair was a mess, and my face had that “don’t talk to me” setting firmly locked in.

Now here’s the part that kills me: the year before, I joined a group of women who meditate at sunrise.

Sunrise. Voluntarily. For fun.

Meanwhile, my morning ritual was sacred: coffee, Today Show, breakfast, work.

That’s my holy trinity.

The thought of sitting perfectly still at 6 a.m., breathing deeply, felt less like “inner peace” and more like “hostage situation.”

I’d tried meditation before, and you know what happened?

My brain took off like it had just had three shots of espresso.

I was planning my day, reorganizing the closet, calculating how many eggs were left in the fridge—doing everything except meditating.

So yeah, sunrise meditation?

I made it three days.

That’s not a habit—that’s a long weekend.

Then a Zen teacher said something that stopped me in my tracks: “It doesn’t have to be that way.” I could start by sitting up in bed, letting all the thoughts swirl as they please, without trying to chase them away.

These days, I give myself two or three minutes each morning to just… be.

And you know what?

The complaints packed up and left.

Instead of grumbling, I find myself thinking, “Wow, this bed is amazing.” I’ve got a roof over my head, coffee in my future, and Aspen snuggled up like she owns the place. I’m not waking up in a cardboard box, fending off pigeons. I’m here, safe, comfortable, and—bonus—there’s no 6 a.m. leaf blower in my bedroom. Life’s good.

Then I swing my legs over the side of the bed, let my feet touch the floor, and begin the day. It’s incredible how gratitude can chase away every bit of negativity that usually greets me in the morning.

This simple practice has become the best form of meditation I’ve ever tried—and it makes that first cup of coffee taste even richer.

I start the day feeling optimistic and energized, and even when something goes sideways later on, I still feel anchored in the blessing of how my morning began.

Gratitude is like emotional Windex—it wipes the smudges right off your mood.

One minute you’re fuming, ready to compose an angry email in ALL CAPS, and the next, you remember, “Oh yeah, my life’s pretty great.”

Flip that gratitude switch, and suddenly your anger packs its bags and leaves without even asking for gas money. It’s not just a cure—it’s the emotional equivalent of a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

Poof. Instant peace.

Think of gratitude as a daily tune-up for your whole system.

With regular practice, it’s like oiling the hinges on your mind and heart—your immune system runs smoother, stress and anxiety quiet down, and your brain starts laying new pathways that make gratitude your default setting. Starting the day with gratitude can be a powerful reset.

Mornings matter—they set the tone for everything that follows.

Without mindful intention, it’s all too easy to roll out of bed and get swept up in the day’s chaos. A morning gratitude practice is especially helpful if you struggle with anxiety, because it shifts your focus to the blessings you’ve already experienced. Looking back on what’s gone well can quiet worries about the future and create a calmer mindset.

And it doesn’t have to end there—an evening gratitude ritual can be just as transformative.

Ending the day with appreciation helps us unwind, recenters our thoughts, and invites the kind of peace that leads to deep, restful sleep.

Before you know it, feeling thankful isn’t something you try to do—it’s just who you are.