What positive changes can you make in your daily habits?

 

When I think about the question, “What positive changes can you make in your daily habits?” it feels less like a classroom assignment and more like a mirror being held up to me. It’s an invitation to pause, take a step back, and ask myself: How am I really living? Not just in the big moments—the celebrations, the struggles, the milestones—but in the small, seemingly insignificant hours that actually shape the bulk of my life. Habits are the quiet architects of who we are becoming. They’re the things I repeat so often that, eventually, they become me. And that is both a humbling and empowering thought.

Over the years, I’ve noticed that many of the positive changes I want to make in my life often start with the tiniest, most ordinary shifts. I’ve learned that it’s not about reinventing myself overnight, but about choosing to be a little kinder to myself, a little more disciplined, and a little more intentional every single day. And so, when I think about positive changes to my daily habits, a few stand out—changes that I know will ripple into every corner of my life if I commit to them with honesty and consistency.

The first habit I want to embrace more fully is the art of waking up early with purpose. I already wake up relatively early, but sometimes I fall into the trap of starting my mornings passively—scrolling through my phone, checking notifications, letting the outside world rush in before I even center myself. On those days, I feel like I’m being pulled along by the current instead of swimming in the direction I want to go. But when I’ve had mornings where I start slowly, grounded in silence or prayer, everything feels different. There’s a clarity and calmness that sets the tone for the day. A positive change I want to commit to is protecting that sacred space in the morning: waking up, breathing deeply, saying a prayer of gratitude, and moving my body before I allow the noise of the world to enter. I know from experience that the way I start my day often determines how I live it.

Another habit that I want to refine is the way I nourish myself. For almost eight years, juicing has been part of my journey, and it has transformed how I view food and health. But as with any long-term practice, it’s easy to become complacent. Sometimes, I let convenience win. Sometimes, I slip into old patterns—snacking mindlessly, choosing something quick over something wholesome. I don’t judge myself for these moments anymore; instead, I see them as reminders of how important intentionality is. The positive change I can make is to return, with fresh commitment, to the joy of creating food that truly fuels me. To treat each meal not just as a task, but as a form of self-respect. To savour the colors of fruits and vegetables, to cook with love, to remember that food is both fuel and medicine.

Movement, too, is a habit that I want to hold closer. I’ve noticed that when I skip exercise, my body feels heavy, my energy dips, and even my mood suffers. But when I move—whether it’s a walk at the stadium with my mum, a run in good shoes, or simply stretching at home—I feel alive. I’m reminded that this body is not just a vessel; it’s the gift through which I get to experience life. And so, a positive change I want to make is to prioritize movement daily, not as punishment, not as a chore, but as a joyful reminder that I am here, breathing, living. Even if it’s just 20 minutes, those 20 minutes matter.

Another area where I crave change is in how I manage my attention. The truth is, the digital world can be both a blessing and a curse. It connects me with others, it gives me platforms to share my work and my heart, but it also steals time in subtle ways. I’ve had days where I look up from my phone and realize I’ve lost precious hours to scrolling, comparing, consuming instead of creating. The positive change here is obvious: I need to guard my attention like the precious resource it is. Setting boundaries with technology—like keeping my phone away during meals, limiting social media time, and making space for offline presence—is not about restriction, but about freedom. It’s about reclaiming the hours of my day for things that truly matter: conversations with my family, quiet time with my thoughts, reading books that nourish me, or simply being still without needing to fill the silence.

On a deeper level, one habit I know I need to nurture daily is gratitude. Life is fleeting, and I’ve experienced enough loss to know that nothing should be taken for granted. I’ve lost people I love dearly, people who shaped me, people who saw me for who I was. Their absence has left an ache that never fully disappears, but it has also left me with a sharper awareness of how precious each day is. Gratitude, then, becomes more than a practice—it becomes a survival tool, a lifeline. Writing down three things I’m thankful for each night, or whispering a thank you when I wake up, is a habit I want to make unshakable. It shifts my perspective. It reminds me that even on hard days, beauty is still present. And that awareness can transform how I show up in every part of my life.

I also want to cultivate the habit of being kinder to myself. This may sound simple, but for me, it’s one of the hardest. I can be my own harshest critic, replaying mistakes, judging myself for not being enough, comparing myself to others. But what I’ve come to realize is that this inner voice shapes my outer world. If I want to live with more joy, more courage, more peace, I have to start by speaking to myself the way I would to someone I love. The positive change here is to notice when that harsh voice rises, to pause, and to choose gentleness instead. To say, It’s okay. You’re learning. You’re growing. You’re human.

Lastly, the habit of presence is one that I feel called to lean into. Life moves quickly. Children grow up, parents age, seasons change. I don’t want to live my life so busy planning for tomorrow that I miss the beauty of today. Presence, for me, means putting down the distractions and looking into the eyes of the person in front of me. It means listening with my whole heart, laughing without rushing, sitting in silence without needing to escape it. Presence is the habit that anchors me to what truly matters: love, connection, being here, now.

When I gather all these habits together—intentional mornings, nourishing food, joyful movement, guarded attention, gratitude, self-kindness, and presence—I see not a perfect life, but a more intentional one. And perhaps that is the heart of all positive change: not perfection, but intention. Not living without flaws, but living with awareness.

The truth is, habits shape us quietly. They are the brushstrokes painting the portrait of our lives. The positive changes I want to make are not grand, dramatic gestures, but daily choices—choices that, over time, will mold me into a version of myself that is more peaceful, more alive, more grateful, and more present. And if I can commit to those choices one day at a time, then slowly, without even realizing it, I will be living the life I’ve always hoped for.