I made a pamphlet.
It’s a trifold brochure that sits on my monitor stand between the paintbrush my art teacher gave me and the ticket stub to a giant human maze me and my daughter conquered in Montana.
On the cover is a picture of Molly, carefree and on a boat.
Inside are lists of things I use to change my mood: everything from give Hazel a hug to call someone cool to shoot some hoops to take a walk with Ziggy to throw your shirt in the dryer for 5 minutes and put it back on to pick a lemon and have some tea.
All of this stuff is 100% within my capacity to do at all times and has been 100% proven to lift my mood.
So why not advertise it to myself so I don’t forget?
It’s basic.
But the most revelatory things often are.
It’s gotten to the point where just looking at the pamphlet is enough; I don’t even have to open it. It holds power, like the ticket stub and the paintbrush.
“I did that,” I think to myself. “That’s for me.”
And the change is already taking place.