There once was a poor farmer whose only horse ran away.
His neighbors came running. “What bad luck,” they said.
The farmer replied, “Maybe.”
Soon the horse returned, bringing three wild horses with it.
“What wonderful luck,” they cried.
The farmer said, “Maybe.”
Later, the farmer’s son tried to ride one of the wild horses, fell, and broke his leg.
“How terrible,” they said.
The farmer said again, “Maybe.”
Not long after, the army arrived to conscript all the able young men for war. They left the farmer’s son behind because of his injury.
“How fortunate,” said the neighbors.
The farmer just nodded. “Maybe.”
What looks like misfortune becomes fortune. What seems certain becomes unsure. That is the strange work of paradox. At first it seems like a contradiction, a flaw in logic or a trick of language. But sit with it long enough, and it becomes something else entirely. A kind of pressure point in our thinking. A knot in the rope we use to understand the world.
This month at SOPHIA, we are talking about paradox, not just as a curiosity, but as a challenge. A paradox can reveal how tightly we hold our own assumptions. It can show us where our thinking gets stuck. It asks us to consider whether some of the cages we live inside are built from our own conclusions. Whether the subject is logic, emotion, identity, or experience, paradox invites us to let go of needing one clean answer. It allows something larger, more complex, and maybe more honest to take its place.
Join us Saturday, June 21st at 3:00 PM at the Bingham Davis House on UK's campus. We hope you’ll come with questions, curiosity, and a little room for uncertainty.
