A PARABLE FOR OUR TIMES

Few poets are prophets and sages, while many are dolts, idiots, or just regular folks. Some, however, are blessed with the ability to take the long view of things. Such a mind is that of the sagacious poet and publisher and epistolary artist, Robert Murphy, who often refers to himself as a fool. If he is a fool, he is a holy one—or, better, a Shakespearean one whose feigned antics mirror our collective foibles. (Full disclosure: Murphy’s Dos Madres Press has published three of my books.)

Today, Murphy has posted a parable on Facebook, introducing it with his characteristic humility and wit. With his permission, I offer it as an aid in getting from day to day during these troubling times.

I have always admired those who speak with scientific exactitude, if not outright certitude. When I hear the phrase, “the science is settled” I get particularly enthused. They must mean the way Newton and Einstein are settled in together. Who would have thought such a marriage possible—and their progeny lined up at the grand baptismal as far as the eye can see. Why it is almost inconceivable. Think of Schrödinger's Cat., Heisenberg’s uncertainty principal, or even that Murphy’s Law. (How did we ever get from Ptolemy to Copernicus, let alone Galileo.) But on these matters, and much else, I am an ignorant man. I will say, though, I am given solace by the Taoist story repeated here below. No doubt many of you already know it . . . by heart:

There is a Taoist story of an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. “Such bad luck,” they said sympathetically.

“Maybe,” the farmer replied.

The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. “How wonderful,” the neighbors exclaimed.

“Maybe,” replied the old man.

The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy for what they called his “misfortune.”

“Maybe,” answered the farmer.

The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son's leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out.

“Maybe,” said the farmer.

—Robert Murphy