By Dr. Kris De Welde
We’ve all heard it…“When life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade.” And then we promptly roll our eyes, right? But maybe there is some deeper wisdom to this metaphor.
Let’s start with a basic recipe for lemonade:
- Large lemons
- Granulated sugar
- Water
- Ice
You can add other things such as lemon zest, lemon slices, mint, etc. But you can’t really make lemonade without these ingredients.
You also need some basic kitchen tools:
- A knife
- Fine mesh strainer or clean cloth
- A measuring cup
Again, you can get fancy with a blender, a citrus reamer, crushed ice, a straw, and so on. Fancy lemonade is still just lemonade.
Now, let’s get to the metaphor. Life handing you lemons is the equivalent of saying that something really is not going your way. That may be an understatement; I’m keeping it light. Lemons are sour and not very tasty on their own. So, what do we do with a whole pile of lemons we didn’t ask for?
First, slice the lemons.
Translation: take the bad situation and cut it open; what is really inside? What is actually happening versus what do I perceive is happening? Often times when faced with hardship we magnify what is happening and imagine it to be bigger than it really is. A failed test is just that. It is not a reflection of you as a person or even as a student. A fight with a partner or friend is not necessarily the end of that relationship. A global pandemic in your first year of college, while disruptive, even deadly has not completely derailed you. These are disappointments, discords, disagreements, frustrations. All of it temporary like the sting of lemon juice in a paper cut. It hurts, but it doesn’t necessarily linger (unless you leave your hand in a bowl of cut-open lemons to feel that pain, but why would you do that?).
Second, juice the lemons.
Translation: extract what you can from the situation; what can you learn? What are the lessons about how to not be in this situation again? This takes some strength, and some lemons just don’t have a lot of juice. This is part of the metaphor. You have to put some work into this part. It takes reflection and self-awareness (which is different than self-blaming).
And it helps to have some tools to extract the juice. As you make more lemonade throughout your life, you’ll pick up handy tools along the way. You also get stronger!
But some of those darn lemons are stubbornly dry. That’s just part of it too. Not every batch of lemons will yield the same juice. Even similar stressful or devastating situations will have different outcomes. You have to cut those lemons open and work out the juice to know what you are dealing with.
Third, using the strainer or clean cloth strain the pulp into a measuring cup.
Translation: Not everything that comes out of those “lemons” will be worth keeping. You need to separate what is useful to you and what is not. In your lifelong journey of growing as a person and improving your circumstances in life you will find that some “aha!” moments are more useful than others, some will “stick” better with you and help you in future situations or relationships that are similar.
Why do you need a measuring cup? On a basic level you don’t, and if you are good at estimating recipes you might not. But, in my metaphor you absolutely do! You need to know when to stop, when there is enough juice to move on to the next step. Too little, and you will have a sugary mess that will get thrown out. Too much, and you will have a bitter result. In other words, take what you can from the sliced open, squeezed and strained lemons, but don’t overdo it.
Translation: it might be tempting to do just a little bit of the hard work and self-reflection, or it might be comfortable to flounder in this stage and over-analyze all the possible lessons you can extract, all the “should have, could have, would have” possibilities. Neither of those is healthy. You need to find the balance between these, keeping your focus on the bigger goals. The measuring cup (your own capacity for processing the situation) keeps you on task.
Fourth, combine the lemon juice and sugar.
Translation: bring in the sweetness so that the bitterness fades. Consider the sweetness to be a form of kindness – for yourself and/or for others who might be in the situation with you (such as in a relationship argument). You’ve done the hard work of extracting the lessons and figuring out how much of it you can take in. It’s time for the next iteration of these lemons’ lives.
Fifth, add water and chill.
Translation: Relax. Recharge, renew, enjoy the work you have done to take a bad situation and make it into something that you worked hard for, but that you will be better off from. This is where it makes sense to slow down, know that a sweet treat is waiting for you (even if you are not sure of when it will be ready).
There is another option to the batch of lemons you received. You could just let them rot, fester, grow moldy and morph into something that is rancid and grotesque. This is what happens when we let failure or setbacks sit inside us and eat away at us. We can never really thrive with that weight within us, that bitterness lingering in the air.
As a first-generation college student myself, born to immigrant-refugee parents (from Cuba), who experienced considerable and multiple traumas in my young adulthood, and as someone who paid for my own schooling by working multiple jobs and sleeping very little until basically my late 30s, I have had my share of lemons. And to be honest, sometimes I was too tired to make lemonade, or too sick of doing the work to find that I didn’t have an ingredient, or there was not enough juice. Many batches of lemons rotted away. But when I took the time to make lemonade with my own hands, I promise you that it was worth it.
Dr. Kris De Welde serves as the director of Women’s and Gender Studies (WGS) at CofC. You can follow WGS on Instagram.
Wonderful. I love this recipe!