Orange Juice and the Sunday Newspaper

Many years ago I had an in-depth conversation about orange juice with my very wise friend before I was aware of the fact that he was very wise. He articulated utter delight in a tall glass of orange juice coupled with newspaper reading on a Sunday morning. I articulated that I was adamantly opposed to orange juice during this conversation. I exclaimed loudly that I neither wanted nor did I need orange juice. I told him that I thought orange juice was icky. And orange juice coupled with the Sunday newspaper was almost too much to consider.

And I did not realize it at the time, but I was afraid of orange juice. I ran from it. I ran as if my life depended on it. The mere thought of orange juice was enough to make me feel anxious. Even artificial orange flavoring made me itch.

But sometimes I would pretend that I did not have an orange juice phobia. Because I wanted to feel normal. And people tend to look at you with a wiggly eye if they learn that you are afraid of orange juice. So when I wasn't refusing orange juice I purposefully sought it out from places that clearly did not offer it. I pretended that it was perfectly normal to ask for orange juice at the hardware store. I looked for it under rocks in the desert. I inquired about obtaining it at the dentist's office. And each time I was unsuccessful in my feeble attempt to obtain the beverage. I never acknowledged the fact that I might be purposefully sabotaging my own quest for juice.

And then things got completely out of hand. I tried to purchase the Sunday paper on Thursday.

Denial is powerful. And I remained in denial about orange juice for quite some time. I couldn't admit that I was terrified at the risk of diving into a tall glass of ice cold orange juice. Certain that it would be the end of me. I would most certainly drown. I imagined losing my identity in the sweet round fruit. Or I feared that I would develop a fondness for the beverage and then it would disappear forever. So to protect myself I became adamately opposed to orange juice. Because I was afraid. And it seemed easier not to care about oranges at all.

But then something changed.

In the most unlikely place I found an amazing supply of orange juice. I wasn't inquiring about oranges. And even though they were in my line of sight for quite some time I didn't notice them. But then I did. And the amazing orange juice supply seemed to not only sense my fear. But understood. I'm talking about tree ripened organic oranges. Fresh squeezed juice folks. The perfect blend of sweet and tangy. And the most beautiful orange color I have ever seen.

And I must admit that it scares the crap out of me. Seriously. Maybe that makes me weird. I'm pretty well certain that it does. But I have decided something. This isn't an ephiphany mind you. Rather I decided to make a conscious effort to accept my fear of orange juice. And take a risk anyway. I have decided to open myself to the idea of orange juice and the Sunday newspaper. I thought I would lose it completely after the first sip. But I didn't. Sometimes I still get a bit nervous around oranges. But I think that I am going to do just fine.