During one of the most difficult periods of my life, a therapist taught me a simple yet profound daily practice that gradually shifted my experience from feeling hopeless and overwhelmed to noticing moments of joy, connection, and gratitude again.
She explained something that many of us know intellectually but often forget in practice: our brains have a built-in negative bias.
For most of human history, this bias helped us survive. Our ancestors who constantly scanned for danger were more likely to stay alive. The brain became exceptionally skilled at noticing threats, problems, and what might go wrong.
The challenge is that while many of us are no longer facing daily threats to our physical survival, our nervous systems often continue operating as if danger is just around the corner. We scan for what is missing, what needs fixing, or what could go wrong next.
The practice she gave me was called One Good Thing
Before bed each night, I was asked to reflect on my day until I could identify one good thing.
It didn't need to be extraordinary. In fact, the simpler, the better.
Once I found it, I was to hold the thought—or more importantly, the feeling—for about 30 seconds. The only rule was that it had to be something different each day. No repeats.
Even though life felt difficult at the time, I discovered that there were still moments of beauty and connection woven throughout my days.
The sound of horses galloping through a frosty field outside my window.
The warmth of a wood stove on a cold morning.
My dog wagging his tail when I walked through the door.
My daughter's giggle.
Two great horned owls calling to one another while my son and I walked at sunset.
The first sip of matcha in the morning.
What surprised me was what happened next
As the days passed, I found myself wondering which experience would become the One Good Thing at the end of the day. Without consciously trying, my brain began scanning for beauty, connection, pleasure, and moments of meaning.
The practice wasn't changing my circumstances overnight.
It was changing what my brain was noticing.
Over time, those small moments accumulated. They became easier to find. Eventually, they became hard to miss.
Why this matters between ketamine sessions
One of the reasons I encourage practices like One Good Thing between ketamine sessions is that the brain may be especially receptive to change during this time. Ketamine appears to create a window of increased neuroplasticity—a period when new thoughts, behaviors, and ways of relating to ourselves can take root more easily.
Ketamine itself is not the change.
The change comes from what we do with the opportunity it creates.
Healing is often found not only in profound experiences during a ketamine session, but also in the small moments we notice and fully receive in the days and weeks that follow.
What we repeatedly notice, we strengthen. And over time, what we strengthen begins to shape our experience of being alive.
