Maybe & Sometimes

Have you noticed that uncertainty is on your mind a lot more than it was, say, six years ago? Or even 10 years ago? Maybe we are in a new “age” or era. We had the Atomic/Space age in the mid-20th century, and then we entered the Information Age in the early 1970s. And from what I can tell that’s basically where we've been ever since.

But in the last 10 years (particularly since Covid), it seems like we've crossed over into the Age of Uncertainty. While we humans have never really known what was going to happen next, the intensity and extremes of change in the last decade have brought not-knowing into the collective foreground.

I recently taught a class that focused on uncertainty. One of the things we discussed was how uncertainty is at the heart of being human, so it's not something we can avoid ~ even if we might wish we could. We also talked about how uncertainty can actually help us have a greater sense of possibility ~ it’s not always scary.

There's a Zen teaching story that I often think about when life events seem dire and I could use a one-word reminder about the inherent possibility in each moment. At the beginning of the story, we meet a farmer who has one son and one horse to help him tend his crops. The farmer wakes up one morning and discovers that his horse has run away. His neighbors see what happened and they come by and bemoan his fate: “Oh no! This is so bad! Such bad luck!!” And the farmer responds with one word:

“Maybe.”

The next day, the horse returns ~ and it brings three wild horses with it. So now the farmer has four horses. His neighbors notice and come over to celebrate: “Wow! Look at that! This is so good ~ such good luck!” Again, the farmer responds with one word:

“Maybe.”

A few days later, the farmer’s son is out in the field training one of the wild horses, when he is thrown from the horse and breaks his leg. The neighbors see what happened and say: “This is so bad ~ who is going to help you? What horrible luck!” And, true to form, the farmer simply says:

“Maybe.”

The following week a general leads troops over the hill near the farm ~ he is rounding up able-bodied men to fight in a battle. Because the farmer's son has a broken leg, he does not have to go to battle. The neighbors stop by and say: “What good luck ~ you will have your son at home with you!” And the farmer says:

“Maybe.”

Clearly this could go on and on and on, but the story stops there. And while his delivery seems a little flat, the farmer was on to something. What’s good luck? What’s bad luck? How do we know? It’s often impossible to put our real-time experience in context.

If you tend to catastrophize in the face of uncertainty, or blame yourself for not having answers or not knowing what to do, perhaps the farmer’s one-word perspective shift can help you let go of some self-judgment. Is this the most amazing thing ever? Maybe. Is it the pits? Maybe. Is it ok for you to not have the answers? Maybe it is.

While answers can certainly be comforting, “maybe” can ground and comfort us, too.

Plus, the inner critic really doesn’t know what to do with “maybe” because the critic deals in absolutes and certainties. Introducing uncertainty in a self-compassionate manner can be a kind of aikido move!

While writing this note to you, a poem came to mind. I hope you find it supportive today:

Sometimes

by Sheenagh Pugh

Sometimes things don’t go, after all,
from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel
faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don’t fail.
Sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.

A people sometimes will step back from war,
elect an honest man, decide they care
enough, that they can’t leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.

Sometimes our best intentions do not go
amiss; sometimes we do as we meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen; may it happen for you.

❤️

Wishing you an easeful week with at least one “maybe” moment that helps you feel a sense of possibility ❤️

Do you know someone who struggles with the uncertainty of these times (or just the uncertainty of being alive)? Feel free to pass this along to them.