The Farmer and the Horse

Recently, I had to give a reflection before a regular meeting. As I prepared for it, I came across a parable that was not only connected to what I had been thinking about but also relevant to my work as a Resident Faculty. The parable is called “The Farmer and the Horse.”

There was a farmer in a small village with a single horse who helped him earn a living for his family. The other villagers constantly told the farmer how lucky he was to have such a great horse.

“Maybe,” he would reply.

One day, the horse ran away. The villagers came to the farmer to express their sympathies.

“Your horse ran away. How unfortunate!” the villagers exclaimed.

“Maybe,” the farmer replied.

A few days later, the horse returned home with ten strong wild horses in tow.

“What good fortune. What incredible luck!” the villagers crowed.

“Maybe,” the farmer again replied.

The following week, the farmer’s son was riding on one of the wild horses in the fields, when it kicked him off and broke his leg. The villagers arrived to express their dismay.

“What dismal luck,” they said.

“Maybe,” the farmer replied.

The next month, a military officer marched into the village, recruiting able-bodied young men for the war. The farmer’s son, with his broken leg, was left behind.

The villagers were joyful. “Your son has been spared, what beautiful luck!”

The farmer simply smiled, “Maybe.”

In my work with high school teenagers, one of the most important things that I’ve learned and have tried to do is to avoid judgment. It is human nature to judge because we compare what we see or observe to our lived experiences. That’s how we make sense of the world. In our conversations, it’s difficult but essential to separate the narrative from the facts. In the story, The villagers decide at every instance whether what happened was good or bad. The farmer, however, accepts the reality as it is and allows the space for the events to unfold, to exist, to just be. As Steve Jobs said in his Stanford commencement address, “You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards.”

When a student makes a mistake or comes to us with a problem, sometimes it’s easy to think, “Oh, that’s dumb” or “Come on, there are simple solutions” or “Why didn’t you think about the consequences?” These judgments come to mind because as adults, we “know better.” But more often than not, we probably made the same mistake and had the same problem and there was probably an adult that thought the same about us when we were younger.

So, instead of making judgments about whatever situation students encounter or bring up, be empathetic and understanding, recognize their thoughts and feelings, acknowledge their emotions, and help them to the best of your ability. This applies to everyday life as well and is part of practicing mindfulness for ourselves because sometimes, we are our own harshest critics.