I’d Rather Make Lemonade

There’s an old saying that’s definitely a cliche at this point in time. You never see it credited as an official quote from anyone, although a quick Google search says it’s likely been around for about a century. On the rare occasions I use the saying myself, my words are usually seeped in sarcasm. But, cliches become cliches because they are filled with relatable truths. And I think it’s time I remove the bite of sarcasm from my voice anyway. Because I’d rather make lemonade.

These days it’s hard to go even a few hours without hearing someone wish that this year would just hurry up and be over. It’s like they believe the calendar flipping to that clean January page will be a magic cure to their sour situations. Actually, it feels like some people are sticking their heads in the bushes and expecting that that page flip will remove all the sour situations from the world.

I can’t help but feel that those people will be disappointed. January first will just be another morning, like October 22nd. Although, maybe it’s easier to strap your optimism onto a day with a beginning feeling attached. And maybe some people prefer to feel miserable all the time, but I have a hard time believing that’s true.

What I do believe is that this year is an especially hard year to pull yourself out of the mud after choosing to sit down for a while. After all, standing up takes a lot more effort than remaining seated. And it’s harder to look up at everything else than it is to keep staring at the dirt. I think, when there is so much rotting citrus on the boggy ground next to you, it’s easy to forget what else you can do with lemons. 

It’s like when it’s a beautiful fall day in the midwest and the person next to you can only talk about how winter is coming. Dreading the cold of winter doesn’t stop it from inching closer. But it does stop you from enjoying the crispness of fall. That dread mutes the fieriness of the trees against the clear blue sky. [Deep sigh.]

I guess I’m just one of those people that would rather drink lemonade than someone who keeps biting into lemons like they’re apples. I don’t think that makes me weird though. My few decades on this earth make me believe that most people prefer to not always be bitter.

Bad moods are infectious. One grumpy person is capable of dragging everyone around them a little deeper into the mud. We’ve all felt it happen, those moments when the color fades from all around you because of someone else’s gloom. Or those times you realize it was what you carried into the room that subdued everyone else. Which only makes you feel worse.

But good moods can be infectious too. Not necessarily the ones that make a grumpy person want to punch you in the face. Those may be the exception, because they have the power to make people feel better or worse. I’m thinking of the good moods that are soaked in kindness and compassion, not over-the-top happiness.

Right now, it feels like there is enough easy-to-reach negativity in the air that a lot of people are having a hard time grabbing hold of anything else. It’s not that there aren’t good things visible to them everyday too. I think it’s that the footholds of negativity feel safer, sturdier to those who have been clinging to their fear in the face of all the world’s uncertainty.

The thing is though, the world is always uncertain. We never actually have the control we’d like to think we have in life. That’s what I’ve been clinging to this year; the certainty I have that we only need to focus on making the best of the day in front of us. So yeah, maybe we are all waist deep in a mound of lemons. I’d still rather use them to make lemonade.

And then I’m going to grab my pitcher of lemonade and some glasses. Instead of setting up a lemonade stand, I’m going to set up a free lemonade wagon. Something with wheels that doesn’t need to rely on people coming to me. I’ll walk my neighborhood handing out glasses to anyone and everyone who will accept them. 

I think we could all use the reminder that not everyone might feel up for making their own lemonade right now. But that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t gladly drink a glass if someone was willing to offer them some.