But isn’t that what we do? It’s the lemons into lemonade, some kind of alchemy where instead of raging and making more rage, we direct that energy into something-else. Something holy. We summon our better side, the one that loves and keeps loving and we call out the dangers of not protecting the vulnerable among us, the dangers of using fear to divide. These hands that make the world are our hands. Our mark in the soil. What are we making? What are we leaving behind?
