It's my mum saying, "eat your liver, children in Ethiopia are starving". It doesn't work.
However, I do wonder if doing really hard travelling in my 20s helped. When you're too hot, hungry, tired, covered in mosquito bites, feeling sick, a bit scared, homesick and stressed, looking at the dirty bathroom, can't sleep, you think of your bed back at home, or your mum, and you realise, very clearly, that you are lucky. Running water is lucky, not being a woman at literally any other point in time or most places is lucky, anesthetic and antibiotics are lucky.
Knowing someone else has it worse doesn't make it better, at least not for me. Knowing I could have it worse, and have, makes me feel better.
There's also a really sad fact. And that's that some forms of satisfaction, notably job satisfaction, are heritable. Not completely genetic, but quite heritable. Which implies it's hardwired. Some people are just happier doing anything, and some people are less happy whatever they do. When you have to do a thing for 8 hours a day, it helps when you like it. Wellbeing is heritable, weakly. Happiness is heritable, weakly. So there are things you can do to influence how happy you are, but not completely.