Weather in Southern Ontario this summer has been kind of mixed. While we often experience humid summer days and hot summer nights, this season started with way more rain than usual, and it’s kind of persisted. So while the halcyon days of summer have started cresting, we’re still getting occasional rainstorms and even torrential downpours.

It was during one of those downpours last week that my doorbell rang. When I opened the door, I was greeted by a young woman whose umbrella was resting on my front stoop, underneath our portico, where both she and it were at least marginally protected from the rain. Let me be clear. This was not a light sprinkling. This was one of those rains where you couldn’t even make it to your car without getting soaked through, umbrella or no. But there she stood, jauntily even, and started her spiel.

I listened to her, not because I was interested in what she was selling, but in the vague hope that the rain would let up before she got to the ask. Unfortunately, it didn’t—and I declined to sign up for her cause. Which left me feeling a bit guilty, right? Here was this young woman, diligently walking up and down the streets in the pouring rain, championing a cause she so clearly believed in, and I was about to send her back out into the deluge. I couldn’t even offer her an umbrella—she already had one. So I just kinda, you know, said, “Hey, good luck out there.” And she turned towards me head-on, and her face lit up with a huge smile, and she replied, “These are the best days, Miss. These are the days we don’t forget.”

Accept, accept, accept

I have three kids. During the course of their meandering stumble towards adulthood, they have taken on a variety of strange jobs. My oldest two shared a job as a personal assistant to a work-at-home exec who used to wander around the house shirtless; it was apparently not an endearing sight. Among my kids, they’ve worked as cashiers and grocery store stock clerks, lifeguards and camp counsellers, office gophers and carnival entertainers and restaurant bussers. And, one on memorable occasion, our oldest son sold window cleaning services door-to-door.

This was not good work. He was only paid when he made a sale, and he would sometimes go days without selling anything. His supervisor would generally give him a lift to the area of town where he would be working, and he’d be dropped off in an unfamiliar neighbourhood, regardless of the weather, and collect a long string of rejections before his shift ended. He was debilitated, a bit humiliated, and not remotely amused. And I understood. Back in my university days, I had a telemarketing job selling newspaper subscriptions in less-than-scrupulous ways. Strangers hung up on me, mocked me, swore at me—and that was on the phone! I didn’t even have to deal with them face-to-face.

So how did the young woman in the pouring rain turn that kind of experience into “the best days”? With a positive outlook, and a perspective of acceptance, and an attitude of gratitude.

Go ahead, I dare you

Look, in the final analysis, we’re all floundering through this thing called life, and we don’t control what it serves up. Some days are going to be smooth and sunny. Some will be wet and dark. All we get to decide is how we’re going to navigate what’s thrown at us. So, today, I’d like to throw this challenge your way: whether all is hunky-dory or you feel like crap, turn today, and tomorrow, and, hell, the day after that too into the best of days, and make of your moments something that you’ll never forget.