A man in ancient China named Sai Ong was particularly skilled in raising horses. One day, his horse ran off and into the territory of the Hu people, a hostile tribe. Horses were very valuable to the people living in this area, so his neighbors regarded this loss as a great financial setback. They came to express their sympathies, but Sai Ong’s elderly father surprised them by remaining calm and unaffected. Much to their puzzlement, the old man asked: “Who says this cannot be some sort of blessing?” Months later, the horse returned to the stable with a companion—a fine steed of the Hu breed. It was as if Sai Ong’s wealth suddenly doubled. Everyone came to congratulate him, but again his elderly father showed no great emotions. He said: “Who says this cannot be some sort of misfortune?”
Sai Ong’s son took the new horse out for a ride. The son had an accident and broke a leg. Again sympathetic people came to console the family, and again they saw that the grandfather remained as calm as ever. Again, he asked: “Who says this cannot be some sort of blessing?” One year later, the Hu people crossed the border into China. All the able-bodied young men were summoned into the army. Nine out of ten men died. Sai Ong’s son did not go into battle because of his broken leg. As a result, he was spared that terrible fate, and his family survived the war intact. Thus, blessings may turn out to be misfortunes, and misfortunes blessings. They change from one to the other endlessly; the workings of destiny have a truly fathomless depth.
Ultimately, this story teaches us that things simply happen in life. They are not good or bad—they just are. They all serve the greater purpose of providing life lessons, but if we are too quick to judge them as good or bad based on initial impressions, we run the risk of losing sight of the real lessons. (I have paraphrased this story and lesson from The Tao of Daily Life by Derek Lin)
It is a lesson that I have been learning for many years. It is why I have come to believe that getting lost is an adventure. I used to get anxious and fearful when I was lost, but I have had so many wonderful adventures as the result of getting lost, that I have just come to relax and enjoy the ride. Once on the Camino, I lost my way because I was daydreaming, watching the sunrise as I walked, and talking pictures. I totally missed the arrow that indicated a left turn. I was about an hour out on this walk along a canal when I realized I hadn't seen another pilgrim for a while, but I figured I was too far along to turn back. I kept going forward until I saw a man on a tractor. I flagged him down and asked for directions to Fromista. He pointed to a road and I went in that direction. I saw a sign that said Fromista was 10 km. I had already walked 10 to 15 km, so I made an instant decision and stuck out my thumb to hitchhike. I hadn't done that since the 1960s. Within a minute, two cars stopped. I told the driver of the first car that I was a lost pilgrim trying to get to Fromista. He offered a ride and we had a lovely chat all the way to Fromista. He was very concerned that I get to the right place to join the Camino and took me right up to it. Off I went. A week later I was in a crosswalk in Leon near the Parador and I heard someone yelling from a car. I thought someone was mad because I was in the crosswalk, but then another man waved and yelled from the sidewalk, pointing toward the car. It was the man who had given me the ride. He asked how I was, I told him I was well and told him thank you again for his kindness. The light changed and he had to drive off. If I hadn't gotten lost I would have missed that experience.
I have had many wonderful experiences as a result of being lost on the Camino, and when other things happened that I normally would have considered "bad,;" including when my second set of clothes caught on fire last year on the Camino. I heard a stor
y a long time ago about a little boy at a party. All of the children were i
n the house opening presents. One little boy was outside digging in a pile of horse manure. Someone noticed him and asked him why he wasn't inside with the other kids opening presents. He said, "With all this horse manure, there must be a pony in here somewhere. This is similar to the story Derek Lin relayed about looking for the lessons. For years now on the Camino and off, when I start to get into fear, disappointment, hurt or other feelings that aren't fun, I remind myself, "There must be a pony in here somewhere." It is my way of remembering to look for the lessons. If I am upset by a situation, the situation itself is never the problem. the problem is always my reaction to the situation.
y a long time ago about a little boy at a party. All of the children were in the house opening presents. One little boy was outside digging in a pile of horse manure. Someone noticed him and asked him why he wasn't inside with the other kids opening presents. He said, "With all this horse manure, there must be a pony in here somewhere. This is similar to the story Derek Lin relayed about looking for the lessons. For years now on the Camino and off, when I start to get into fear, disappointment, hurt or other feelings that aren't fun, I remind myself, "There must be a pony in here somewhere." It is my way of remembering to look for the lessons. If I am upset by a situation, the situation itself is never the problem. the problem is always my reaction to the situation.
Sometimes, the lesson isn't always apparent in the moment of my discomfort. Sometimes I don't see the lesson until days, weeks or even years later. But, today I have faith that it will appear if, and when, I am ready to learn it.
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