Part of my weekend routine involves going to the market to get groceries for the week. I’ve played around with different days and times to avoid the crowds, and I’ve ultimately found that going early in the morning is usually the best way to steer clear of the chaos.

I usually go on Saturdays because I tend to spend Sundays with my dad, and I haven’t found a good way to fold grocery shopping into that day. This past Saturday, however, I was feeling pretty lazy when I woke up. I messed around at home until, suddenly, it was almost noon.

By the time I made it to the market, it was nearly 1 PM and that’s when it hit me: it was the day before Easter Sunday. I wanted to put my head in my hands and weep. Why, God? Why did you make me such a lazy schlub?

As I pulled into the parking lot and saw how packed it was, I felt like crying. Why did I have to be late getting here on this weekend, of all weekends?

In the middle of my little pity party, I stopped myself. I looked at my reflection in the rearview mirror and decided to run an experiment. I had just written a post about positive thinking, and I’ve been trying to find ways to be less negative.

So, I told myself that I was going to go in and be better than I normally am. I wasn’t going to rush. I wasn’t going to get annoyed when people got in my way. And I was going to try to laugh (internally, at least) when people were outright rude.

I figured the experiment would last about thirty seconds before I reverted to my old patterns and started actively hating everyone in the store.

But something interesting happened. My entire approach changed. As I walked toward the door, two other people were approaching at the same time. Normally, I’d speed up just enough to get in ahead of them so I wouldn’t have to wait for them to get a cart.

But this time, I stopped and waved them in front of me. Already, the experiment was leading to a better experience. I noticed that just this small gesture made me feel better. I even had more patience while I waited for them to pull their carts out—far more than I usually do. It seemed that choosing to slow my pace really took the edge off how I felt about others being “in the way.”

In fact, the whole experience was far less stressful. Not that a trip to the market is that stressful (it isn’t), but sometimes I leave angry at how rude people can be. Could it be that the problem has been me this whole time?

“No way,” he says sarcastically (lol).

Later, I was looking at olive oil when a woman asked if I could reach something for her on the top shelf. I joked that nobody usually asks me to help because I’m only 5’9”. She laughed and said I still had a few inches on her. I smiled as I handed her the can from the shelf.

Long story short, I left feeling so much better than I usually do after going to the market. Normally, it annoys me to no end. But today, the experience wasn’t bad at all.

And let me be clear: it was insanely busy. People were cutting in front of me left and right. One woman even had a dog that was jumping on her in the middle of the aisle I needed to get down. And if you know me, one of my pet peeves is how many people bring their dogs to the store these days.

But I just shrugged it off and decided I didn’t need what was down that aisle today. It was only paper towels. I’ll get them another day (or next week).

So, what did I learn from my experiment?

Perhaps an old graduation speech by David Foster Wallace sums it up nicely. It’s about nine minutes long, but, trust me, you’re going to want to listen because the message is simple yet profound:

Source: The Actualization Agent Youtube Page

There is a full transcription of the speech here for those who don’t want to watch the video.

The TL;DR version is basically this: Wallace challenges graduates to break free from their self-centered “default setting” and become more aware of the world around them. He argues that real freedom lies in choosing how we think, what we pay attention to, and how we assign meaning to everyday experiences. By cultivating mindfulness and empathy—recognizing that others have their own struggles—we can live more compassionate, meaningful lives instead of being trapped in frustration and routine.

To me, this is a reminder of a lesson I learned a long time ago. In the years leading up to my decision to leave engineering and become a teacher, I spent a lot of time reading self-help books and trying to work through my issues. The most powerful lesson came after I uncovered some of my deepest insecurities (perhaps I’ll do a proper post about that someday).

One such lesson came from a simple weekend I spent with an older cousin of mine. He had a place on the lake about three hours from my home, and he invited me and some other family down for the weekend. It was an amazing time full of good food, jet skis, and a night at a local bar.

At the bar, I overheard him talking to a friend. He said something that really stuck with me (I’m paraphrasing from memory here):

“A lot of people talk about wanting to go to great places and see great things. And while I want that too, I also recognize that I am a great place to be. And because of that realization, I find that I want to bring people into my world and share with them all the great things I have to offer.”

When I told my mother about that, she kind of rolled her eyes and called him conceited. But I don’t think she understood what was at the core of the idea. Maybe he was being a little conceited, but I interpreted it differently.

All my life, I’d believed I was boring, someone who just stayed out of the way. But after hearing my cousin’s little spiel, I began to carry this mantra with me: “I’m a great place to be.”

And the results were amazing. I found myself saying “hi” to everyone who made eye contact (and yes, some gave me weird looks). I became more open to connecting with people—more open to experience. If I wanted to bring people into my world and show them a good time, I couldn’t be the shy, backward introvert I’d always been.

And in the end, that shift in mindset led to me not only quitting my job and going back to school to be a teacher, but becoming one of the top candidates in the program, and eventually being accepted into a doctorate of educational leadership program.

The moral of the story is this: how you frame the world—and yourself—can have a massive impact on how you experience it. I can’t stress this enough: your experience of life is entirely a function of how you view and approach your circumstances.

So if you want to change your life, try changing your attitude. If you’re unhappy, realize that your unhappiness is a function of your default setting and that you can change that setting to something that empowers you. Because, after all, this is water.