Maybe, Quizás

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“What are your thoughts on luck, El?”

My Spanish teacher, Ivan, asks me.

We’re now in week 3 of our lessons.

I mull it over for a second, and respond:

“To be honest, I think we create it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, well I’m not denying that bad things happen—they do—but what I’m saying is that when they do, what we make of those moments is often up to us. I think that’s where luck resides.”

I see him raise a curious eyebrow and lean forward, “Cuéntame más. Tell me more.”

“Alright, there’s this one story I often turn to when it comes to the matter of luck. It’s one that I like to share with clients and friends, and it’s always a good reminder for myself as well.

“Have you heard about the farmer who says ‘Maybe’… eh… Quizás?”

“No, I don’t think so. Can you tell me it?”

So I muster just about all the neuronal muscle I’ve got to give telling the story, en español, a sincere go.

I’ll spare you my laughable linguistic stumbles and bumbles, but let’s just say my subjunctive still needs some support.

Nevertheless, the story goes like this:

There once was a humble farmer who lived in a small village with his son. They didn’t have much—just a small plot of land and one strong, steady horse to help them tend to it.

One day, however, that horse ran away.

The neighbors saw this, came by, and shook their heads, crying out,

“What bad luck!”

The farmer looked at them, simply shrugged, and said, “Maybe.”

A few days later, the horse returned—this time with three wild horses, beautiful mares and stallions, following behind.

Now the villagers exclaimed, “What incredible luck!”

The farmer, gazing upon it all, once again simply replied, “Maybe.”

Later that week, while trying to tame one of the wild horses, the farmer’s son was thrown from its back and broke his leg.

The villagers saw the commotion and dramatically cried, “What terrible luck!”

The farmer? He helped his son and simply responded,

“Maybe.”

Not long after, the army arrived in the village to draft young men to go to war at the frontier—an almost certain death for those on the front lines.

All able-bodied sons were taken, except the farmer’s, who was left behind because of his injury.

Once the troops had left, the villagers, ran to the farmer, declaring,

“What good luck!”

And the farmer, looking partly at them and partly at the horizon, simply said:

“Maybe.”

Ivan looks at me and smiles,

I’ve always loved this story.

And I love telling it.

Not because it cheekily paints the quick-to-react neighbors in such a dramatic and humorous light, but because it softens the edges of our own judgments.

It reminds us that we rarely see the full arc of a moment while we’re still living it.

That what we label as a setback may become the soil for the very thing we’ve been longing for.

And what we cling to as good fortune may carry its own unseen weight or consequence.

It doesn’t mean we can’t feel frustration, disappointment, joy, or relief.

But it offers us the wisdom of a loosened grip.

Of an open palm.

It gives us the humility to pause before naming what something is or isn’t.

And strangely enough, the telling of this story—in Spanish, no less—was its own little lesson in maybe.

Was my grammar perfect?

Far from it.

Did I have to repeat myself four times to explain what an “army draft” was?

Sí.

But was it a bad moment?

Maybe.

Or maybe, it was a perfect one.

A reminder that luck isn’t always about what happens.

It’s about how open we are to what it could become.

So as you navigate whatever life brings you in the days to come, I invite you to not rush to name it or judge just yet.

Take a breath.

Look at the horizon.

And say,

Maybe.

Quizás.

Reflections for Growth

• When Have You Misjudged a Moment?

  Think of a time when something felt like a setback—or a blessing—only to reveal itself differently over time. How did your perspective evolve?

• The Meaning You’ve Assigned

  What in your life right now are you labeling as “bad luck” or “good luck”? What might shift if you allowed yourself to hold it with curiosity, rather than conclusion?

• Your Relationship with Uncertainty

  When life takes an unexpected turn, do you tend to react with judgment or openness? How might practicing a gentle “maybe” support your growth in seasons of change?

Invitations for Practice

• The “Maybe” Pause

  This week, when something doesn’t go your way—or even when it does—pause before labeling it. Take a breath and whisper, Maybe. Quizás. Notice what opens up when you do.

• Explore the Arc

  Choose one past experience that at the time felt like “bad luck.” Write out what unfolded in the weeks, months, or years after. What hidden gifts were revealed?

• Tell the Story Differently

  Pick a current challenge or uncertainty in your life. Try retelling it in the style of the farmer—adding “Maybe” at the end of each outcome. See how it changes the energy of the narrative.

As you practice, please jot down your thoughts and experiences.

And as always, feel free to share your reflections directly with me.

Yours truly in holding the maybe,

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