OPINION
Emotions tend to run hot after a general election. The question is, how will you deal with your victory or loss? Some of you will be happy right now, some unhappy; some will be screaming that it’s the end of the world. Personally, I feel nothing at all, as I am writing this article three days before voting day on the Eurostar between London and Paris. Unlike you, Monday readers, I do not know what happened in the election.
I have also missed much of the campaign. So, to gauge the feeling back home in the lead-up, I checked in on New Zealand X (the place that used to be called Twitter). If the mood there is anything to go by, we Kiwis have lost our minds. According to both sides, the other side is pure evil and plans to defecate on everything and everyone if they get in power.
Luckily, social media isn’t a representation of how people think. It’s more of an indication of how the most hysterical, digitally addicted and desperate for attention feel. Most in the real world, while opinionated and passionate, are also sane. However, if you are feeling good or bad about the election result (if there has been one), I’d like to share some philosophy that might help you to feel a bit better. It comes in the form of an ancient Chinese proverb my mum told me when I was just a wee boy.
A Chinese farmer and his son have one horse with which to work their land. One day, the son leaves the gate open and the precious horse bolts. A panicked neighbour yells across the fence, “This is the worst thing that could have happened. You won’t be able to farm your land!” The farmer calmly replies, “Maybe yes, maybe no.” The next morning, the horse wanders back in through the gate with four friends. The same neighbour screams at the farmer, “This is the best thing that has ever happened. You can now maintain the farm and make a fortune on the sale of these new horses!” The farmer replies, “Maybe yes, maybe no.” The following day, while trying to train one of the new horses, the farmer’s son is thrown to the ground and breaks both his legs. The emotional neighbour once again pipes in, “You are screwed, mate. How are you going to run the farm?” The farmer replies, “Maybe yes, maybe no.” A week later, the Emperor’s army arrives to conscript all the young men in the area for a bloody battle with little chance of survival. They don’t take the farmer’s son because of his injuries. The hysterical neighbour yells across the fence for the fourth time, “Come on buddy, you’ve got to admit this one is a good result!” The farmer replies, as he always does: “Maybe yes, maybe no.”
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