Chapter 4
How to Be Grateful Even When Life Stinks
From Conscious Practice to Unconscious Habit
The goal isn't to "practice gratitude" forever. The goal is to practice until you don't have to anymore—until being grateful is your default setting, beyond something you do, to something you are. Here's how to make that transition from forcing it to being it naturally.
Remember the water line trench from Chapter 1? Strangers digging up my yard, bills piling higher than dirt mounds?
Here's the crazy part: I didn't sit there trying to be grateful. I wasn't flipping through a gratitude journal or forcing myself to make a list.
It just... happened.
As I watched those workers dig, I automatically noticed things to appreciate:
That's when I realized: gratitude was becoming my default setting.
The Problem with Most Gratitude Practices
Most people think gratitude is about willpower. They try to white-knuckle it:
"I'm going to write three things every day in this new journal I bought."
Or my favorite: "I'll set reminders on my phone."
Or: "I'll just think more positively."
Here's the problem: willpower wears out. Motivation evaporates. Notifications get swiped away.
That's why most gratitude practices don't stick.
The ones that do? They're built on habits, not hype.
Habit Stacking: The Secret Sauce
I first learned about habit stacking from Dr. BJ Fogg's Tiny Habits. His idea is simple: don't try to invent new behaviors from scratch. Attach them to something you already do automatically.
That's exactly what we've been doing with bathroom breaks. You don't have to schedule them. Your biology makes sure they happen.
And because they're private, predictable, and repeatable, they're perfect gratitude anchors.
That's how something weird—like smiling when you poop—turns into something revolutionary.
The water line trench was my first sign that ridiculous gratitude had become automatic. Standing there watching workers dig, appreciation just appeared without me trying.
I thought that was the test.
It wasn't. That was just the warmup.
From late 2023 into mid-2024, life seemed to test whether this practice was real.
It started in December. My wife, Jennifer, burned her hand badly enough to need emergency surgery. Then everyone in our house got sick—COVID-19-like symptoms, strep throat, and ear infections. I was down for about two weeks, barely able to move.
Just as we were recovering in January, I stood up from a work meeting and felt a sharp pain in my groin. Two days later, it traveled to my calf. I could barely walk. Back to the emergency room.
I had a blood clot.
The doctor said it was "a superficial clot with a 50-50 chance of turning into a deep vein thrombosis (DVT)"—a life-threatening blood clot. That hit hard. I had a cousin who died from a DVT at age 31, when I was 22.
Praise God, a few weeks later, the vascular specialist found no clots.
But the tests kept coming.
On Valentine's Day, my last grandmother passed away. She'd lived a long, beautiful life, but losing someone you love is never easy, no matter how many years you had together. In honor of her favorite scripture—Proverbs 3:5-6, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart[…]"—Jennifer and I taught at church that following Sunday about trusting God in uncertain times.
A few days later, I was in a work meeting a few hours before my flight to the funeral.
That's when I learned I was part of the "workforce reduction." Three years at one of my favorite jobs ever. Ended on the day I was leaving for my grandmother's funeral. Days after teaching about trusting God.
I went on a brief emotional rollercoaster—crying, laughing, probably in shock. Then I paced around my kitchen island, repeating the only words that made sense: "Thank you Jesus. Thank you Lord. Hallelujah."
And even through all this, I can honestly say I was still grateful.
But my gratitude test still wasn't over.
July. I'm headed to pick up my oldest child from work, sitting at a 4-way stop with two other cars. One car goes through. I'm next.
I pull forward.
SMACK. Right into my driver's side door.
T-boned by someone who blew through their stop sign. All gas, no brakes. The police estimated the speed at 35-50 mph.
The airbags deployed. My glasses flew off. The car spun—180 degrees—ending up facing the direction I was coming from. Everything was slow motion.
And as I was spinning, I just remember repeating the same thing I'd said while pacing around my kitchen after losing my job:
"Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Lord. Hallelujah."
I wasn't forcing gratitude during any of those moments. I wasn't reminding myself to be positive or trying to see the bright side. The practice I'd built over the years, which showed up during $500 water bills, had become my default response to extraordinary crises.
The water line fiasco showed me that gratitude had become automatic.
The three storms proved it had become my default.
The effects of those three storms lasted months. I even ended up BACK in the emergency room, with ER doctors finding another clot, and thankfully BACK at the vascular specialist giving me the "all clear" over the next few months.
Jennifer and I called this our "season of chaosity". So many things SUCKED during this season, and we said they sucked.
At the same time, we had so many things to be grateful for. And we acknowledged those, too.
That's the difference between practicing gratitude and being grateful. And when you start with ridiculous things like bathroom breaks and toilet paper, when you can find gratitude while sitting on a toilet during ordinary days, it'll be there for you when your grandmother dies, when you lose your job, and when someone t-bones your car at a 4-way stop.
The water bill taught me that the practice worked.
The three storms proved it could help me through even tougher experiences.
The 21-Day Myth You've Probably Heard
You've likely heard it takes 21 days to form a habit. That's not quite accurate.
Dr. Philippa Lally and her team at University College London studied 96 people over 12 weeks and found that forming a new habit takes an average of 66 days, with variations ranging from 18 to 254 days depending on the individual and the behavior.
But here's the good news: bathroom gratitude has built-in advantages that speed up this process.
The Habit Formation Curve
Dr. BJ Fogg's research at Stanford shows that habits form fastest when three elements align:
Bathroom gratitude hits all three.
What to Expect Week by Week
Days 1–7 (The Awareness Phase): You'll forget most of the time, remember occasionally, and laugh at how ridiculous it feels. This is normal. Dr. Lally's research shows the first week is all about awareness, not consistency.
Days 8–21 (The Inconsistent Practice Phase): You'll remember about half the time. It still feels weird, but you notice gratitude coming more easily. Your brain is beginning to create new neural pathways.
Days 22–45 (The Tipping Point): You start remembering before you even sit down. Gratitude becomes anticipated rather than remembered. This is when the behavior starts feeling more automatic than forced.
Days 46–66 (The Automaticity Phase): It's automatic. Your brain starts scanning for things to appreciate without conscious effort. Dr. Wendy Wood's research at USC shows this is when behavior transitions from "decided" to "automatic."
Beyond Day 66: Gratitude spills out of the bathroom into other areas. Standing in line becomes an opportunity for gratitude. Traffic becomes a chance to appreciate. The practice has rewired your default thinking.
The Compound Effect
Here's what makes bathroom gratitude so powerful: you don't have to remember to practice it once a day. You're practicing three to seven times daily.
That's 21 to 49 gratitude moments per week. Ninety to 210 per month. Over 1,000 repetitions in your first year.
Compare that to:
The bathroom anchor gives you 3–10x more repetitions than traditional methods. And according to every habit formation model:
You're stacking all the advantages.
Building Multiple Trigger Points
Over the years, I've found that three anchors work best for making gratitude stick:
1. Unavoidable Anchors – things biology forces you to do (bathroom breaks, breathing, blinking)
2. Ordinary Anchors – things you do daily without thinking (opening a door, brushing your teeth, pouring coffee)
3. Optional Anchors – things you may not do every day, but when you do, they can spark gratitude (commutes, workouts, waiting in line)
The more you attach gratitude to anchors, the less you have to remember. Random things start triggering gratitude for you.
Creating Variety Within Structure
The key to avoiding boredom is keeping the trigger consistent while varying the content:
Bathroom visits (Unavoidable Anchor):
Door handles (Ordinary Anchor): Each time you touch one, appreciate something different about doors—privacy, security, the person who installed it, the fact that it works every time.
Red lights (Optional Anchor): When stopped, find one thing to appreciate about being still, having time to think, or the safety system that prevents crashes.
"Won't this get boring?"
I guess if you let it. But think of it like breathing or eating. Repetition and greater awareness don't diminish it; they deepen it. And with the variety system above, you're using the same anchor but finding new ways to express gratitude.
"What if I forget for days?"
You will forget. That's normal. The beauty of biological anchors is that they keep happening whether you remember or not. Miss a morning? The afternoon bathroom break is coming. Forget Tuesday? Wednesday has five to seven more chances.
"What if it stops feeling meaningful?"
When something becomes truly automatic, it doesn't always "feel" meaningful—like you don't feel grateful for every breath, but your body appreciates the oxygen. The practice is working even when it doesn't feel profound.
"How do I know it's becoming automatic?"
You'll know when gratitude shows up without you summoning it. Like during my water line crisis or my season of chaosity, appreciation just appeared. That's the sign it's working.
Week 1: Establish the Primary Anchor
Week 2: Add Variety
Week 3: Add One Ordinary Anchor
Week 4: Let It Flow
"I keep forgetting."
Don't try too hard. Scale back to one bathroom visit. Your first one of the day. Make it so simple you can't fail. One anchor, one appreciation, 10 seconds.
"It feels forced and fake."
Perfect—that means you're doing it right. Everything feels forced before it becomes automatic. Remember learning to drive, playing a game, and doing your job? Keep going.
"I'm doing it, but nothing's changing."
Change takes time. You're rewiring decades of mental patterns. Give it the full 30 days before evaluating. And judge your change after you experience something that REALLY sucks.
"My family thinks I'm weird."
Why'd you tell them? This is a private practice. But I get it, you already told. What can you be grateful for while they think you're weird? Let that anchor you while you navigate dealing with them.
"I forgot for three weeks straight and feel like I failed."
You didn't fail—you just paused. This happens to everyone. The beauty of bathroom breaks is they're still happening. Your next bathroom visit is a fresh start. Don't try to "catch up" or beat yourself up. Just restart with your next trip to the bathroom. No judgment, no guilt, just begin again. In fact, write this down somewhere: "My next bathroom break is my next chance."
My best friend from middle school is a neuroscientist. She's informally given me an honorary neuroscience degree because I nerd out about how our brains work. Thanks, Shayna!
From my nerdy research, here's one thing I know: our brains create neural pathways through repetition. Every time you practice bathroom gratitude, you're literally carving a groove in your brain. After enough repetitions, that groove becomes the path of least resistance.
It's not about willpower anymore. It's about wiring.
The bathroom trigger works because:
The Compound Effect
Start with three to seven bathroom visits per day. That's 21 to 49 gratitude moments per week. Ninety to 210 per month. Over 1,000 to 2,500 per year.
Each repetition strengthens the neural pathway. Each appreciation makes the next one easier. Each day of practice makes gratitude more automatic.
When gratitude becomes automatic:
You're not forcing positivity. You're not pretending everything's fine. You're just automatically aware of the complete picture—including what's still functioning.
Next: Your bathroom practice is becoming automatic. Your helper awareness is growing. Your appreciation for organic automations is natural. But something unexpected might start happening—people around you may begin noticing you're different. Chapter 5 reveals how your private practice creates a ridiculous revolutionary ripple you never intended, and why your ridiculous gratitude matters far beyond your own bathroom...
Get FREE early access to all chapters, share your feedback, and be acknowledged in the published book as an Advanced Reader.
Get Your Free ARC Copy