I always look forward to Waffle Wednesday with my daughter. This tradition was born during quarantine when the world slowed down. We dreamed up “McCormick’s Waffle House,” and every Wednesday we try to come up with new ideas for recipes over the breakfast table. 

This past Wednesday was different, though. We did not have waffles. Things went wrong from the very start. 

I woke up at 3:45, much earlier than normal, to a crusty left eye. “Great, I have pinkeye,” I grumbled as I attempted to pry my eyelashes apart with my fingers. “What a perfect start to my day.”

I went back to sleep for an hour or so and woke up slightly more optimistic. I brushed my teeth, did my morning yoga, and then began the process of waffle-making. As I am cutting carbs, I made myself separate paleo waffles; then I made the batter for Gabby’s waffles. Since I wasn’t eating them, I cut her recipe in half. I put her batter in the waffle iron but apparently poured in too much, and it gushed out everywhere.

“That’s okay!” Gabby snuck up behind me, having just awakened to her alarm. “Waffles that pour out the side are the good waffles!” 

I love her attitude.

The light turned off, and as I carefully opened it up to reveal Gabby’s breakfast, the waffle tore in half and stuck to each side of the waffle iron.

When I say stuck, I mean no amount of scraping and pulling was going to remove that waffle. This thing was stubborn. I thought perhaps cutting the recipe in half was to blame, and I instantly went from calm to super-speed delegating.

“Okay, you start over and make the waffle batter while I clean this thing out.” 

Gabby, giggling, got right to work.

I ended up washing the iron out in the sink, creating a huge mess, and Gabby was done making her batter before I finished cleaning.

I re-oiled my waffle iron and poured in Gabby’s batter. This one also spilled out the sides a bit, but I was confident we had done everything right this time.

The time came for us to open it up, and to my dismay, it happened again! The waffle ripped in half and glued itself to each side of the waffle iron.

Gabby and I stared in disbelief, and I began to short circuit.

What the heck? Why is this happening? This is such a bad morning! We’re already running late! Do I have pinkeye? I should probably make a doctor’s appointment. What a horrible start to the day! We just wasted so much batter and so much time! I hate wasting time.

I had a choice: continue this thought pattern and turn it into a bad morning or change my perception of the events and make it a good morning. 

So I laughed.

And then Gabby laughed.

We cracked up at the ridiculousness of the morning’s events. 

“Get dressed, girl, we’re going to Starbucks.” 

On the way, we talked about what happened and had a silly (and yet not so silly) conversation about the waffle iron and what might have been wrong with it. 

“Maybe it’s an evil waffle iron,” she suggested.

“Maybe. Or maybe it was having a bad day. Sometimes waffle irons—and people—aren’t nice to us, but it could be that something else is going on with them.” 

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Like maybe it’s being bullied by some of the food in our refrigerator! Maybe it just needs a cup friend to stand up for it.” 

“You could be right, kiddo. We never know what might be happening inside someone else when they behave in ways we don’t like.”

Approaching the morning’s challenges with “This morning is fun and different!” instead of dwelling on the negatives woke us up out of our routine and forced us to let go of control and go with the flow. Gabby got an opportunity to gain more independence by making her own breakfast, and we had a good laugh in the car personifying inanimate objects and discovering a life lesson. It was a beautiful and crazy morning for us both.

Our morning could have gone a different direction. Had I chosen the angry path, my energy and actions would have followed those thoughts; I might have slammed the waffle iron, snapped at Gabby, and inevitably transferred that negativity to her. She would have seen it as a bad morning, and it would have set the tone for her day as well. I chose the other path, and we both found joy in what could have been a very frantic morning.

When I got to work that morning, I shared the ridiculous events with my new secretary, and I realized something even deeper: Many events that break us from our routine are the moments we look back on and laugh about, turning into stories that we use to connect with other people. When was the last time you talked about how you stuck to your daily routine and everything ran smoothly? What if we were able to recognize the opportunity in the moment things go wrong and not only embrace the moment, but immerse ourselves in it and be fully present? 

As energetic beings, our energy transfers to the people around us and molds our relationships. Our thoughts are in the driver’s seat, and like consequences will follow whatever energy we project. 

When things don’t go as planned—and they often won’t—you have a choice: to be a victim of life’s mishaps or to be the victor of life’s opportunities. Whatever thoughts you choose, your energy and actions will follow. Your perceptions create your reality, and when you exercise your freedom to choose, you can create any reality that serves you. 

What will you choose?

Margaret McCormick is a core energy coach in the Austin area. She partners with survivors of unexpected life events to help them regain control over their minds, bodies, and spirits.