Maybe Once upon a time there was an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. “Such bad luck,” they said sympathetically. “Maybe,” the farmer replied. The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. “How wonderful,” the neighbors exclaimed. “Maybe,” replied the old man. The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune. “Maybe,” answered the farmer. The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son’s leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out. “Maybe,” said the farmer. -A Zen Buddhist Fable
i have made a friend over the last several months. it was not expected. it was unexpected. the support is distinctive and disarming. i am seen when i am not aware of being looked upon. the uneven quality of my moods are evident outside my manipulation.
i have all but completely morphed into an almost complete curmudgeon. my romantic aspect would like to envision myself as a spiritual warrior or some such fantasy. truthfully tho now, i would be at best a warrior gone to pasture, sentenced to a life of teacher and hopefully sage.
but this new friendship that has developed has lifted the lid on my lethargy and let new light into the aperture. life continues to surprise me. friendship continues to delight me. gratitude continues to ground me. working with others continues to baffle me. puzzles continue to intrigue me. french soft cheeses continue to satisfy me.