Lower expectations and get enjoyment out of life

Thirty days ago we all made New Year's resolutions.

So, how's it going?

I thought so. Me too.

I made one easy, sensible, do-able resolution: practice gratitude daily. I did it for two days -- two measly days! -- then forgot about it.

But lately it's come to mind again as the darkness of January and February close down our afternoons and the frigid temperatures provide an excuse not to get outside and exercise. In the absence of sunshine and outdoor activity, depression wiggles in and finds a toehold.

A Naperville friend offered simple advice: Write down everything about your life that you'd like to keep the same.

I did. My list grew longer and longer. As the page filled, my spirits lifted tangibly. I'd been so focused on problem-solving that problems were all I saw anymore.

There's a funny story from the Jewish tradition about seeing the good instead of the bad. My sister, Catholic like me, sent it to me years ago, when my husband and I were living in a tiny third-floor walk-up flat in inner-city London. That apartment was full with the two of us. Then we had our first baby. Then, our second.

There were baby dresses jostling for space with my husband's business suits in the armoire, a knee-high washing machine tucked under the stairs, a dryer in one of the closet-sized bedrooms, and a dorm-size refrigerator under the counter in a kitchen the size of a phone booth.

There were three flights of stairs, two babies, armloads of groceries, cartons of disposable diapers and no elevator. We had no car, just a heavy-duty British double stroller parked in and nearly blocking the narrow front hallway.

When I complained to my sister that life couldn't go on this way, she sent me a children's book about a farmer who feels that his large family is overflowing his small house.

He goes to the rabbi, who every week counsels him to first take the cow into the house, then the pigs, then the chickens and finally a horse. Finally, when the farmer's tearing his hair out, the rabbi says, "Now, take everything out but your family." The farmer luxuriates in the spaciousness and peacefulness of his abode.

Religion, and common sense, wisely counsel us to practice gratitude. Like rebellious teens, we don't.

Understandably, we focus on our problems that need attention before they get worse. But submersing ourselves in the problems makes them inflate until their importance seems to blot out the very sun.

For a change, listen to the voice of an ancient: This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Atheist, Muslim, Christian, Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist, we all have that day and can choose to be glad in it. Or not.

Funny enough, lowering standards can increase happiness. I'm thinking of my golf game. I took it up as a young, raw beginner, not expecting much. (I've always figured the smaller the ball, the more confounding the game. Golf, then, would be well-nigh impossible.)

But I had to co-host some business clients at a golf event coming up, so I figured I'd better give it a go. I took lessons, and also began conscripting friends to go golfing.

With my low expectations, every good shot was a delight. Every tiny success was met with a wonderment of gratitude. Every flight of that little white ball, sailing toward the beautiful green, was fantastic. I crowed to my instructor, "Wow! This is fun!"

He was surprised and pleased. "Finally. Somebody has a reaction other than frustration."

Proust said the voyage of discovery lies not in new landscapes but in new eyes. Less highbrow but still on target, your eighth-grade coach said it, too: It's all about your attitude.

Where is my New Year's gratitude journal, anyway, with those measly two entries? I have a lot to write in it.

• Cheryl Stritzel McCarthy lives in south Naperville and writes for Neighbor every other Wednesday. Email her at otbfence@hotmail.com.