Once upon a time, there was a farmer...
If you’ve heard this parable, you know how it goes. His horse runs away. Everyone says it’s terrible. The horse returns with seven more. Everyone says it’s wonderful. His son breaks his leg. Terrible. The broken leg keeps him out of the army. Wonderful.
To each twist and turn, the farmer replies with the same quiet wisdom:
“Maybe.”
This is the essence of saying yes, and playing the scene you’re in. Meeting each moment as it is and not how we hoped it would be. Rather than judging the moment, we accept it for what it is, whilst being present, adaptive, and willing to co-create the story, rather than force a predetermined outcome.
This story, credited to Alan Watts, has become one of my go-to reminders. Because when life is unscripted (and it always is), labeling something as “good” or “bad” too quickly is like editing a scene before it’s even played out.
We live in a culture hungry for certainty. We want quick answers. Fast takes. Instant verdicts.
You get the promotion? That’s good. You lose your job? Bad. You miss your flight, lose the pitch, get ghosted by a potential client? Clearly bad. Until you learn that flight would’ve trapped you in a storm, or that “no” cleared the path for something better.
Our work lives, especially, train us to assign value to everything immediately. Success or failure. Hero or flop. And yet, I’ve seen time and again, in my own life and work and with observation of others, that the most pivotal, profound, or profitable outcomes start from moments that looked like total derailment.
Improvisers know:
the unexpected twist is not a problem. It’s the scene.
The power of “maybe” is not passive. It’s permission. Permission to pause. To not know. To hold space for surprise. To let the story reveal itself, moment by moment.
The companies and teams I’ve work with who navigate change most successfully aren’t the ones who get everything right. They’re the ones who hold uncertainty lightly. Who trade panic for presence. Who say, “Yes, and…” to the wild plot twists of growth.
So if you're in a moment right now that feels hard to categorize, whether personally or professionally, try channeling the farmer.
Try saying “maybe.”
You don’t have to fix it. Or define it. Or know what comes next.
Just play the scene you’re in. The story’s still unfolding.
And if you’re anything like me, you’re still practicing this way of approaching life’s happenings. Because like so many worthwhile things, it’s easier to type than to do.
☺
P.S. I’m back from my break and so so grateful to have gotten away for a bit. I’ll be back with live readings of excerpts from my upcoming book soon!