One of my favorite stories is about a farmer in ancient China who used an old horse in his fields. One day, the horse escaped into the hills and when the farmer’s neighbors sympathized with the old man over his bad luck, the farmer replied, “Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?”
A week later, the horse returned with a herd of wild horses from the hills, and the neighbors congratulated the farmer on his good luck. He replied, “Good luck? Bad luck? Who knows?”
Then, when the farmer’s son was attempting to tame one of the wild horses he fell off its back and broke his leg. Everyone again sympathized with the farmer over his bad luck. But the farmer’s reaction was, “Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?”
Some weeks later, the army marched into the village and drafted every able-bodied youth they found. When they saw the farmer’s son with his broken leg, they let him stay.
Good luck? Bad luck? Who knows?
I love this story because it reminds me of a lesson I think and write about from time to time – you never know if a good day is a good day.
In that spirit, I wanted to share an update on our immigration foibles. After my wife lost her job, I asked for help here and via a LinkedIn post. We got a lot of tips and ideas, a couple of wonderful connections, and lots of support (thank you!). We decided that the best path forward was to pursue litigation and engaged an attorney.
One day after doing that and four days after her job loss, the extension came through day before yesterday.
What followed was an overwhelming sense of relief and amusement at the sequence of events.
Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?
