Turn Lemons into Lemonade
This passage is an extract from Dare Your Dreams Challenge Your Limits: A Book written by Liberty Kingsdale.
The road to follow if you desperately want to prosper in life would be doing the opposite of what you are doing right now, make contra-choices and follow them through, as F.W Nichol puts it; “When you get down to the root of the meaning of the word ‘succeed’, you will discover it simply means to follow through.”
This road to Greatness is less traveled because only a few people have guts to challenge self and erase scripts of idleness, fear and mediocrity from their minds. Only a few are willing to charge forward. Pursue your dreams until they beg for mercy.
Michael W. Smith has a line in which he sang; “Go west young man when evil goes east.” Choose the course of courage where cowardice is rampant, learn the art of diligence when surrounded with idleness, and demonstrate faith when the path you travel is filled with gloom and thistles of doubt.
Unleash the lion in you and let him roar in the face of adversity, don’t reduce yourself to a mere house cat that mews from the crevices of fear. Cowards contract fear from external factors when the brave inspire fear into them. In the end cowards expire and are taken prey by the virus they contracted, when by inspiring fear into those factors, the brave wind-up masters of the marketplace and pioneers of monopoly.
Courage is not the absence of fear but it is an understanding that what you are afraid of could also be afraid of you. It starts by concealing your fear as if it never existed as you array yourself in knowledge against your opponent.
There is a story of adaptation told from my village. It chronicles the vicissitudes of one survivor when he was trapped in a cave during the Second Chimurenga War.
This war started in the late seventies when African nationalists fought for their country’s liberation following racial inequality and brutality of white Rhodesians in the country.
It’s been a month since the last battle was heard in my small village. The peace that the peasant villagers had for so long prayed and fought for seemed to be arriving. Slowly they had begun accepting this state of things as the new norm of life when all of a sudden they were caught unawares.
On this fateful day Kekani was in the plains tending his cattle when he saw one villager passby in a rush. Kekani stood up on the rock on which he had been sitting to catch a good glimpse of what had befallen this running fellow.
This is when he saw the Rhodesian legion marching towards where he was, holding other locals hostage. Grasping this impending danger, fear cramped him a little that he almost fainted.
But as the legion marched closer and closer, fearing for dear life, Kekani became airborne, took to the nearby Shamba hills where he found sanctuary in a cave, a territory that belonged to a cobra.
The moment the first thoughts of safety, calmness and relaxation crept in, Kekani realised he had gotten into a territory that belonged to someone very dangerous without permission; thereby he had to be treated like a trespasser.
He turned around in a flash to check if the snake hissing at the entrance was the only one in the cave, this is when he almost died of fear when he saw some cobra eggs just behind him.
Realising that this was mother cobra that had come to tend her eggs, Kekani had to adapt either to fight and kill it or make a friend out of that venomous creature.
Taking off his sun-hat, as if to pay homage to someone important, carefully Kekani reached for a stick from the cave’s periphery, long enough to at least help him keep a safe distance from the vicious snake standing still at the entrance, twitching her red-fork-reptile tongue.
Like a novice picador, Kekani fearfully pointed his stick towards this snake; jabbing it aback. Such provocation crowned this creature’s wrath and it flew right into him, in a striking mode.
Instinctively, Kekani managed to cup its head into the hat, wrestled with it as he masticated this creature’s head to death.
Like Kekani, sometimes we find ourselves in life or death situations where we have to choose between lemons or millions.
You either fight to win what is important to you or lay back and die without trying. Life does not give you what you deserve rather it gives you what you fight for. Bob Marley said; “You never know how strong you are, until being strong is your only choice”.
When caged with a mad baboon you do not quit fighting because you are too tired, rather you only stop fighting when the baboon is either too tired or dead. In such instances you dig deep into your instinct vault, you command to the fore both deadly and life-inspiring abilities which you never knew you possessed.
You demonstrate the dexterities of torture and slaying simply to deliver yourself from the whelp of circumstantial cruelty. Your feet become like gazelle’s to help you outrun your hunter, and your body mutates into steel to resist the rusting and corrosion of cowardice.
You become like Eleazar who chose to defend God’s honour. He smote the Philistines until his hand was weary and clung to the sword. Like a pegasus you glide altitudes on wings, giving you an aerial advantage over common horses, mid-air changing into a unicorn, so you can gore them that seek to plunder you.
Lemonade is made from lemons and the making of steel is harbored in the blast furnace. Emeralds are created under severe heat and pressure. Leadership is born in a hole in the absence of applauders, refined in the wilderness and rewarded in achievements.
Develop self where no one notices. Master the art of the game when odds are against you. Plant orchards of fortune in the night, to enjoy its fruit during the day. Turn your lemons into lemonade and sell to make millions.