When life gives your lemons…

By Christina Cran, Wee Seeds Founder

They say: “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” But sometimes those lemons just sit in your lap, while you look at them and wonder how they got there. There’s times where getting up and brushing yourself off isn’t possible because the burden is just too heavy. Do you know that feeling?

Last week was one of those weeks. It was also an important week for us here at Wee Seeds (more to follow on that).

Ten days ago, as I sat down to my lunch at home, my son had just been pushed off a substantial drop at school as part of a ridiculously stupid playground ‘game’. He fell onto his arm. I’d not managed to finish my salad when the school phoned, suggesting it’d best be checked at hospital. It was 12.30pm. My husband and I rushed to collect him, driving to the hospital at speed, all the while trying to comfort an extremely distressed 8-year-old.

I’m always eternally grateful for our NHS — my Type One diabetes, son’s prematurity, and various other ailments — but that was a day to be even more so. The bone hadn’t only broken above his elbow, but had dislodged too, and with the bone now pressing on his nerves and blood vessels, and quickly losing feeling in his fingers, he was at risk of losing the use of his hand. He was on the operating table by 4.30pm.

The lemons had landed in my lap.

After a gruelling two hour wait, the surgeons said it had gone well and, after a night in hospital, we were let home. What followed was days of uncomfortable sleeps, tears (from pain and the trauma), and the heart-wrenching agony of watching your child in pain, until eventually we had to visit the hospital again to check everything was OK.

The pile of lemons grew bigger.

As a self-employed consultant, I had to negotiate time off with clients, but looming large over me was the anniversary of my beloved Wee Seeds. October 1st was a year since we launched, and I’d had such high hopes to fanfare our launch, to showcase all we have done in the past year, and share our new content and plans for the future with you. But with a heavy heart I had to lay that all aside to focus on my broken boy and my pile of lemons.

Those lemons were my sadness, my anger, my upset, my overwhelm, my sheer fucked-off-ness, and my deep pain at watching my son hurting and a whole bunch of other ancient baggage. I reasoned with myself for days, telling myself: practice meditation, walk in nature, give to him, give to others, sleep, talk to friends. All the self-care tips and tricks I’ve learned over the years.

But ultimately, sometimes you just can’t make lemonade.

If the practice of mindfulness is being in the present moment, with whatever is there, without judgement, or striving for change, then that’s what we must do — even when it is difficult to sit, or when we face difficult emotions. It’s either good, or good practice, someone told me recently. Well, this was good practice.

So that’s what I’ve done. I’ve meditated and allowed this myriad of feelings to be there. I’ve asked them what they need to feel better. I’ve asked myself what I need to feel better. Until slowly, these past few days my lemons have started to roll off my lap and I am feeling lighter. Giving them space to rest a while, like a weary traveller in need of some food and water, has given me the space to see them and their impermanence and know that this too shall end.

During times like this, as a I work unpaid to bring Wee Seeds to life (the entrepreneur’s life), juggling paid employment, and family life, I often wonder why, why do I bother? Last week, as Boy Child lay in the hospital bed, and we were chatting overnight, he told me this:

“Mum, I hit the ground, and when I opened my eyes, I took a big deep breath in, and a big deep breath out, and it was really sore. But I told myself, “I’m going to be OK”, “I’m going to be OK,” “I’m going to be OK.” And I kept repeating that all the way and breathing.”

This is why I work so hard — because if we can teach our children that no mater the storm around them, they’ll be OK, then they’ll know what to do when life gives them lemons.

Stay safe.

*So better late than never, we’ll be bringing you all our anniversary celebrations throughout October! To stay up to date with our news, sign up to our newsletter For subscribers to our early years’ mindfulness toolbox there’s exciting new content coming your way at the end of the month. To sign up check out our early years’ mindfulness toolbox