Ask most people how they are and you'll get a reflex. There's a better answer, and it's yours to choose.
Ask most people how they're doing and you'll get one word back: "fine." "Tired." "Busy." Honest enough. But notice that each one is a reading — a little report on what the day has done to you so far.
Tonight, before you fall asleep, decide that tomorrow is a good day. Not hope. Not wait-and-see. Decide. Then in the morning, before you're even out of bed, say it: today is a good day — and I decided that before I got up.
It sounds too simple to matter. It isn't. A day you've decided on is a day you own. You stop reporting the temperature and start setting it. And when someone asks how you are, you don't hand them a reflex — you hand them a sentence you chose.
Try This — tonight, then tomorrow
Tonight: before you sleep, make the call. Out loud, if you can. "Tomorrow is a good day."
Tomorrow morning: first thought, feet still in bed, before the coffee and before the phone — "Today is a good day, and I decided that before I got up."
Then hold yourself to it (at least once!): The first person who asks how you're doing, answer in a full sentence: "Today is a good day." Not "fine." Not "hanging in there." The whole sentence, out loud. Notice what it does — to them, and to you.
One decision, one sentence. Do it tomorrow.
Tale as old as time
If it helps to know the idea isn't new: some of the oldest morning practices begin exactly here, with a few chosen words before the feet hit the floor. The one I grew up with is a short line of gratitude for simply having woken up (מודה אני). You don't need to share anyone's tradition to borrow the instinct — just start the day with something you decided, before the day decides for you.
This is the same muscle we build on the mat: showing up on purpose, deciding to begin before you feel ready. If you've been waiting to feel ready, decide instead.
P.S. Some mornings I decide it's a good day and the day puts up a real fight. So I decide again. That part's allowed.