There was once a farmer in ancient China who owned a horse. “You are so lucky!” his neighbors told him, “to have a horse to pull the cart for you.” “Maybe,” the farmer replied.
One day he didn’t latch the gate properly and the horse ran away. “Oh no! That is terrible news!” his neighbors cried. “Such bad luck!” “Maybe,” the farmer replied.
A few days later the horse returned, bringing with it six wild horses. “How fantastic! You are so lucky,” his neighbors told him. “Maybe,” the farmer replied.
The following week the farmer’s son was breaking-in one of the wild horses when it threw him to the ground, breaking his leg. “Oh no!” the neighbours cried. “Such bad luck, all over again!” “Maybe,” the farmer replied.
The next day soldiers came and took away all the young men to fight in the army. The farmer’s son was left behind. “You are so lucky!” his neighbours cried. “Maybe,” the farmer replied.
This Taoist tale came across my screen the day after the election and not a day has gone by where I haven’t shared it with someone. That “maybe” is so resonant in this moment. Truthfully, it’s a sentiment that I think speaks to so much of life.
As Alan Watts, 20th century British writer noted on this story:
The whole process of nature is an integrated process of immense complexity, and it’s really impossible to tell whether anything that happens in it is good or bad — because you never know what will be the consequence of the misfortune; or, you never know what will be the consequences of good fortune.
It’s very easy in a particularly heightened moment to to ride the highs and lows as extremely as possible. What is more challenging but ultimately more helpful is to remind ourselves that we don’t even know what we don’t know yet. There are too many variables, too many complexities, and too much inconsistency in our world to claim knowledge about much. So, what should we do?
I don’t know THE answer but a powerful possibility comes from the portion this week after Abraham casts out his maidservant Hagar and their child Ishmael at the request of his wife, Sarah. After he sends them out into the desert and their provisions run dangerously low, we read the following:
When the water was gone from the skin, she left the child under one of the bushes, and went and sat down at a distance, a bowshot away; for she thought, “Let me not look on as the child dies.”
And sitting thus afar, she burst into tears. God heard the cry of the boy, and a messenger of God called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, “What troubles you, Hagar? Fear not, for God has heeded the cry of the boy where he is.
Come, lift up the boy and hold him by the hand, for I will make a great nation of him.”Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. She went and filled the skin with water, and let the boy drink.
As we picture the story, it is painful. This poor woman Hagar and her son Ishmael are near death seeking any form of help they can muster. Then suddenly, there is a divine breakthrough as we read that God hears the cry of the child. Oddly, the messenger of God asks Hagar, “what troubles you?” which, to be honest, feels like a strange question. Look around, Mr. Messenger!
But it’s his response that I want to focus on. His words are that God has heard the cry of the boy, ba’asher hu sham, where he is. To contextualize the teaching that I am about to quote, I want to remind you that in the rabbinic canon Ishmael is seen as the progenitor of the Arab Nations. Given the complex relationship our peoples, we read the following from the Midrash1:
The ministering angels leapt to condemn him before God. They said before God: ‘Master of the universe, a person who is destined to kill your children by thirst, will You produce a spring for him?’ God said to them: ‘What is he right now, righteous or wicked?’ They said to God: ‘He is righteous.’ God said to them: ‘I judge a person only at his present time. “Rise, lift the boy.” This is the meaning of what is written: “[For God has heard the voice of the lad באשר הוא שם in that condition in which he is.
Ba’asher hu sham—in this moment, that’s how Ishamel is noted.
Ishmael, who becomes the stand in for evil perpetrated against Jewish people, is not that at this moment.
So often we write our own stories or have stories told about us for where we’re going to go and what is going to be. Somtimes, when we make one decision, we catastrophize and think we’re doomed to play out the string. But I think we can be a whole lot healthier if we remember our ba’asher hu sham-ness, our present state.
That is, right now, in this very moment, in this very place, that’s what matters. Not what happened or importantly what your anxiety will tell you will happen. But rather, you deserve compassion, calm, and empathy right now.
We live in a world in which rapid fire prognostication is the default. Things happen at breakneck pace and we are expected to know how the world, our communities, or even how we will respond. But truthfully, we don’t really know. We have hunches but often those hunches prove inaccurate.
Take stock of your own life in this very moment. If you look back in your mind’s eye ten years ago, how much of what you’re doing now would’ve been predictable then? I imagine for most of us it wouldn’t be all of what we’re doing.
That is the challenge of a culture which demands answers to “what’s going to happen next?” Thankfully, by yet another metric, Judaism is counter-cultural here. As the Be’er Mayim Chayim, Rabbi Chayim ben Shlomo of Tchernoviz wrote:
It was in this literal moment, not before and not after that Ishmael was seen. God, in all of God’s divine mercy judged him right there and produced a well before him for salvation.
All we need is right in this present moment. Instead of seeking out an answer to what will be, we should instead drink from the well of “maybe,” just like the farmer. If we can cleave to that, then maybe in our ba’asher hu sham-ness, we can find an ability to ride the waves of life with a bit more equanimity.
Shabbat Shalom and Happy Weekend!
Bereishit Rabbah 53:14
Maybe I really enjoyed this post! No wait, I really did!
Love this! One can always relate to this, and for me, never more so than now. Time will tell, has many times been my go to. As I have learned as I grow older, change is the only constant. And, as much as I am distress and depressed about our world right now….just, MAYBE… Time will tell! Shabbat Shalom✡️ Hugs and Love!
Zeta 💕