I miss a lot of people lately, sisters of past lives, a good dog in the family, distant friends, grandparents that have long left this realm. Has autumn always been the season of mourning and I’m just now noticing? Has my mourning just become too great to ignore? Is there just so much more to mourn as we age?
Maybe as my subconscious’ way of prodding me out of this mourning the fable of the farmer and her horse keeps coming to mind-
A farmer owned a beautiful mare which was praised far and wide. One day this beautiful horse disappeared. The people of her village offered sympathy for her great misfortune. The farmer said simply, “Maybe, maybe not.”
A few days later the lost mare returned, followed by a beautiful wild stallion. The village congratulated The farmer for her good fortune. She said, “Maybe, maybe not.”
Some time later, The farmer’s only son, while riding the stallion, fell off and broke his leg. The village people once again expressed their sympathy at The farmers misfortune. She again said, “Maybe, maybe not.”
Soon thereafter, war broke out and all the young men of the village except the farmers lame son were drafted and were killed in battle. The village people were amazed at the farmer’s good luck. Her son was the only young man left alive in the village. But the farmer kept her same attitude-despite all the turmoil, gains and losses, she gave the same reply, “Maybe, maybe not.”
We will see