What’s one small daily habit that makes your life noticeably better?

What’s one thing, big or small, that helped you survive a hard season?

Head up the ass maybe buried in sand. Floating in bubbles pretending life's grand. Bubbles are fun but, they always burst. Living is bliss, ignorance is cheap. Safe in green pasture thinking like sheep. There's safety in the herd until the shepherds aren't fed. Go along to get along. Take it in stride. Tongue bitten and bleeding, swallow the pride. The stomach gets full well before the ability to swallow is lost. A two-sided mouth. A foot in the throat. No ears to be shot gift of blather and gloat. Blowing smoke and wanting smoke are two very different things. Ego plans a little trip put on the airs. High horses hard to saddle better pull up some chairs. A bug in the ear is way better than a bug up the ass. A dose of your own medicine is a bitter pill. No leg to stand on But at least it's going downhill. Being behind the curve usually means it's time to chart a new course. Time to lay the groundwork. get the ball rolling. Idle hands are the tool, Let the devils keep scrolling. Patience is only a virtue when time is not wasted. Tides begin turning, eyes fixed on the prize. Hard to kill habits Those creatures meet their demise. Digging in your heels requires putting the feet down first. Smelling like roses, the bull has no horns. Sitting pretty in a gold mine the breaker of norms. The only way to make this better for us all is to step outside the paradigms created for us. Vehemently call out bullshit behavior and try to live up to the moral standards we all embrace but, refuse to exemplify.

I watched a man today riffling through trash. Searching for plastic to weigh, he was in luck, but it would be well earned. The bins he churned collected a uniquely disgusting sort of refuse. This was truck stop trash: bottle full of piss and tobacco spit, bags of literal shit, countless cigarette butts and rotten food. In the strewed garbage he assessed his hope. He gathered his purpose with a grimace and placed his disappointment back in the bins, respectfully. As if to acknowledge no one would know he was there anyway. And no one would care, anyway. Then he looked up as he finished his task and our eyes locked. Most would turn away, hoping it'd pass. But I did not pretend. I glared in concern and he stared back like a friend. He smiled and nodded, I nodded back. His eyes told me he did not want my pity. His furrows told me he did not care being judged. He then tied up his ego stuffed in a sack. He got on his bike and rode off with his pride held intact, tossed over his shoulder to ride on his back.

I feel like people take my kindness for weakness!!!