This month’s cover story on Seaquist Orchards celebrates the family-owned cherry farm, but things weren’t always blossoms and pies.
During our interview, Jim Seaquist, who operates Door County’s oldest and largest cherry farm with his wife Robin, shared that within months of going into business with his father, the family endured two major tragedies — Jim’s mother passed away and their home burned down.
Yet in the face of these losses, Jim and Robin found ways to refocus. There were hard days, but their vision for the future buoyed the business, which has grown remarkably and today includes involvement from the sixth generation of Seaquists. Turn to page 18 to read more.
This reframing of pain into potential is what psychologist, author and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl called tragic optimism or “an optimism in the face of tragedy and in view of the human potential.”
Please don’t confuse tragic optimism with toxic positivity, which refers to the unhealthy avoidance of negativity and often leads to poor mental health. On the contrary, tragic optimism accepts the unfortunate reality that pain is an inevitable part of human existence, but suggests there is meaning and growth to be found in it.
I was humbled to witness an example of tragic optimism on June 14 when Insight Publisher Brian Rasmussen sent out his Feel Good Friday email. It’s a project born out of the pandemic that Brian has faithfully maintained ever since as a way to amplify five weekly pieces of good news.
Brian’s June 14 edition was dedicated to his 26-year-old son, Ian, who passed away the prior week following a short but vigorous battle with cancer. Brian highlighted five lessons he learned from his son and their family’s journey through treatment. He shared lessons on the importance of kindness, letting others help you, taking bold steps and voicing our authentic feelings.
In this message, Brian proved optimism is always an option and that Ian’s light would not be overshadowed by his loss.
If you are a human being reading this, you too have reasons to feel hopeless. But this month, I ask you to join me in honoring Ian’s memory by finding opportunity in every situation, personal growth in challenges and to sit with sadness and disappointment — and even tragedy — without succumbing to it.
With a heavy, but hopeful heart
