Central Pickle Park

Central Pickle Park.

John Paul Derryberry

My girls just finished story time at the Mason City Farmer's Market. One of them was starting to get hangry and wanted me to hold her. She was tired, and it was time to go home in her mind. The other danced around in the bubbles created by the bubble machine with their friend from Kindergarten, some other little kids in the park, and one guy in a pickle customer participating in pickle day at the farmer's market. My wife sipped her coffee while talking with her parents, and I sat back and watched the whole scene unfold. It brought a giant smile to my face, even though pickles are rather disgusting.

We are often inundated with messages about how horrible everything is. Something about complaining gets more attention than someone saying things are good, fun, or okay. As a reformed, angry person, I get the appeal. Most of us cave to our worst instincts, leading to our most pessimistic view of the world. The Mason City Farmer's Market is small and sometimes doesn't have the bells and whistles other markets have. Yet I have been an attendee every weekend I'm in town and have always walked away with everything we need as a family. A little fresh local food for the week, a nice cup of coffee, played some game my girls made up on the spot, and talked with some other regulars. Some call it small; I call it quaint, cozy, and the perfect Saturday morning.

This may be where some readers insert their eye-roll about a message around not complaining, appreciating what you have, and how those who complain have life all wrong. That's not necessarily true. There is a time to complain; there is time to want more, even though you have it good, and I don't think complainers have it all wrong. All I know is we are way too far into the negative, the complaining, and this thing doesn't fit my life exactly the way I want it to. The Farmer's Market of Mason City is not supposed to fit my life or yours the way we want it to. It is supposed to be a thing that fits lots of people and fulfills the needs of numerous visitors. That's the design of everything in life. It's designed for more than just one person.

Those who embrace that notion usually find a way to better balance accepting what is and complaining about what can be improved. We find joy in more moments and people than anger. We look for similarities instead of differences. We build upon a solid foundation through improvement instead of tearing everything down to its studs. We often apply the time-old tradition, and we must agree to disagree. I can not go through life attending every event and carrying every interaction with others through the lens of dissatisfaction. I did that once, and honestly, it was exhausting.

So, on a day I would have complained about years ago, I embrace pickles even though they are still disgusting. Anytime I am presented with a chance for pickles, I do the sensible thing of handing them to my wife or girls. They like pickles. Their day gets better, and so does mine. They get something they like, and I avoid something I don't. And we all move on happier. It's a better, more innovative, and more fun way of experiencing life. More smiling, more laughing, more being present in the moment, and more appreciating things for how they are, whether they need improvement or not.