The List of Threes

The Radical Act of Celebrating Small Things

Two months ago, I realized I hadn’t laughed all week. Not once. I’d been busy being an adult: driving to meetings, folding laundry, checking emails. And then one afternoon, my kid ran into my office yelling,

“Mom, MOM! The ducks are crossing the street!”

And for the first time in days, I smiled. Before my List of Threes, days blurred into a gray soup. I felt robotic. Achievements didn’t register, and joys slipped past me like strangers on a train.

Recently, I’ve been part of a small community of mentees exploring our next career moves. We’d gather, each sharing updates on experiments we were running.

But our wise mentor noticed something: We were all failing to recognize our small victories.

Of course, the failures felt huge. Monumental. And in a phase of transition, those towering mountains can become walls.

It’s hard to focus on the small red flowers at your feet when all you can see are peaks scraping the sky.

“Don’t cry over something that small.”
“You drank water? That’s not an accomplishment.”
“You rested? That’s lazy.”

Somewhere along the way, millennials became wired to believe that only big milestones count. Promotions. Houses. Side hustles. The small stuff feels insignificant—even embarrassing—to celebrate. But our mentor gave us homework:

The List of Threes.

Every day, each of us had to share:

• 3 tiny things that brought us joy

• 3 tiny things we were proud of

And she led the way by doing it herself.

So I followed. At first, it felt… cute. But then, something shifted.

I’m starting to think noticing small joys might be an act of quiet rebellion. In a world obsessed with optimization and achievement, what’s more radical than saying:

“This cup of coffee… matters.”

It’s been a few weeks of writing and sharing my List of Threes. It takes two minutes of my day. But it’s become a cornerstone habit—one that helps me pause, notice, and realign with what truly matters. And slowly—like building muscle—I could feel my joy and pride waking back up.

When we forget to notice, life gets dull. We become robotic.

Wake. Coffee. Work. Dinner. Scroll. Bed.

Rinse. Repeat.

But life actually happens in the in-between. It’s the moment your kid jumps in bed to wake you up too early. It’s the row of ducklings crossing the street that almost makes you late. It’s the coworker who surprises you with a cupcake just to say thank you.

These aren’t interruptions.

They’re the good stuff.

The colors in the black and white tapestry of life.

Now, small joys stand out to me like neon signs:

“Licking salted caramel ice cream while the sun hit my eyelids, making the world glow orange.”

“Who knew that leftover pasta could feel like winning the lottery? Adulting is wild.”

Here are a few examples entries from List of Threes:

Three Tiny Joys

• Opening a new notebook and pen

• Eating ice cream on a hot afternoon

• Realizing we had leftovers—no cooking today!

These tiny moments are potent. Even while attending to my sick mother, this small habit kept me upbeat and resilient. It created a soft bubble around me and made me feel supported and cared for. It gave me space to be grateful.

Small Wins for the win

Next up was noticing the smallest wins—not a promotion, but helping a coworker.

Not extravagant self-care, but a 15-minute walk. Tiny improvements you choose intentionally. Moments where you deviate from the default—and change your trajectory. Because small wins deserve a place in our lives.

And just because our parents stopped patting us on the back for small wins… doesn’t mean those wins stopped mattering. It just means the responsibility now falls on us:

We have to become the grown-ups who pat our own backs.

Here are a few examples entries from List of Three Wins

Three Small Wins

• Drank enough water

• Didn’t cancel my workout

• Spent two focused hours on work

• Kept a personal boundary

• Slept on time

Nine-year-old Shradha would’ve been so proud of all of the above. And today’s Shradha is learning to be the grown-up who still gives that 9-year-old a gold star. Because adults deserve pats on the back too. Especially for the small things. Maybe only for the small things.

I’m learning that small joys are not small. They’re evidence that I’m still awake to my own life.

Try it this week:

Write your List of Threes once a day:

• 3 tiny things that brought you joy

• 3 tiny things you’re proud of

The smaller, the better.

And if one of your wins is, “didn’t cry over spilled coffee,” I’ll be cheering you on.

Have a joy or a win you want to share? Hit reply.
I’d love to read your List of Threes, too.

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P.S.: I’d like to dedicate this newsletter to my mentor

Kax Uson

and my fellow mentees, for creating and instilling this beautiful habit that truly changed how I see my life.