Blog Post Four

“The Story of the Chinese Farmer”

Long ago, in a quiet village nestled among rolling hills, there lived a widowed Chinese farmer. With only his son by his side, they toiled through the bitter winds of winter and the scorching heat of summer, their livelihood resting on the back of their last remaining horse.

One day, the son forgot to latch the stable gate properly, and the horse bolted into the wilderness.

When the neighbors heard what had happened, they rushed over, shaking their heads in sympathy.

“What a terrible misfortune!” they cried. “Without your horse, how will you maintain the farm? What a tragedy that your son didn’t secure the gate!”

The farmer simply replied, “Maybe yes, maybe no.”

The next day, to everyone’s surprise, the runaway horse returned—this time leading six wild horses into the stable. The son quickly secured the gate behind them, ensuring none would escape again.

When the neighbors learned of this unexpected turn, they returned, their faces bright with excitement.

“What wonderful luck!” they exclaimed. “Now you have seven horses! You can work the farm with ease and sell the others for a handsome profit. What a blessing!”

The farmer replied, “Maybe yes, maybe no.”

The following day, while attempting to break in one of the wild horses, the son was thrown violently to the ground. He landed hard on a sharp rock, shattering his leg.

Again, the neighbors gathered, their voices laced with pity.

“What a horrible event!” they mourned. “Now your son cannot help you on the farm. What a disaster!”

The farmer calmly responded, “Maybe yes, maybe no.”

The next morning, soldiers from the imperial Chinese army arrived in the village, conscripting every able-bodied young man to fight on the front lines of a brutal war against a fearsome enemy. The farmer’s son, with his broken leg, was left behind.

When the neighbors heard, they rushed back once more, their relief palpable.

“What incredible fortune!” they declared. “Your son has been spared from certain death in battle. What a blessing!”

The farmer, with the same quiet wisdom, replied, “Maybe yes, maybe no.”

There’s a lot to be said about this story. It mirrors life in its simplest form—how triumph and tragedy often dance hand in hand. We tend to view life through a narrow lens, labeling moments as either good or bad, success or failure. We chase perfection like it’s the ultimate goal, and when things veer off course, we crumble, convinced it’s the end of the world.

But what if it’s not? What if what feels like a failure is just a detour? What if heartbreak is just the prelude to healing?

I’ve been learning that, just like the farmer, it’s not about rushing to judge the moment. It’s about holding space for the unknown. It’s about realizing that life isn’t happening to us—it’s happening for us, even when it doesn’t feel that way.

And trust me, I know it’s easier said than done. When you’re in the thick of it—when the person you thought you’d spend forever with leaves, when your body betrays you with illness, when friendships fall apart—it feels impossible to see beyond the pain. I’ve been there. I was there. I lost hope. I lost a lot.

But here’s the thing: losing everything I thought I needed made room for everything I didn’t know I deserved.

I look back now, and I’m living on the other side of the world. I’m healing in ways I never imagined. My mental health is stronger than it’s ever been. I’ve made lifelong friends from corners of the world I never dreamed of visiting. I’ve mended old friendships that once felt broken beyond repair. I’m nourishing my body with healthy meals, moving in ways that feel good, and I haven’t had a psoriasis flare-up in over two years.

None of this would’ve happened if the chaos of those earlier years hadn’t unfolded exactly as it did. I didn’t understand it at the time. I fought it. I cursed it. But now? Now, I’m grateful.

Just like the Chinese farmer, I’ve learned to sit with life’s uncertainties. Maybe yes, maybe no. But instead of clinging to the fear of the unknown, I’ve learned to let it be.

And if you’re in the middle of your own storm right now, I want you to know—this isn’t the end of your story. The pain you’re feeling? It’s not permanent. The heartbreak, the setbacks, the detours—they’re just chapters, not conclusions.

Sometimes, the things that break us open are the very things that set us free.

So, when life surprises you—whether with joy or sorrow—remember: Maybe yes, maybe no. But no matter what, trust that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. And the story isn’t over yet.

Much love,

Karina Jade xx