Hey hey, this is Thersa Matsuura author of The Book of Japanese Folklore and the coming-this-fall (2025) Yokai Oracle Deck which you can preorder if you’d like. I’m here to share with you all those hidden, fascinating, and sometimes frightening corners of old Japan. Come with me as I explore strange superstitions, creepy creatures and cultural curiosities right here on Uncanny Japan.
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Have you ever heard the proverb: Saio ga Uma. In English it’s often called “The Old Man’s Horse” or “The old man on the Frontier who lost his horse”. Something like that. Well, it’s actually a parable that came originally from China and dates back to the 2nd Century. It kind of exemplifies Daoist philosophy, but the fact that it’s still around 2,000 years later tells you it’s an enduring lesson about life.
It is thought to have arrived in Japan when all that other good Chinese knowledge did, in the Nara or Heian Eras. So from the 700s through the 800s. Or thereabouts. It’s very strange but recently it’s been popping up in my thoughts a lot. Just randomly, but again and again. A couple times I’ve heard it mentioned in an article I was reading or an audio book I was listening to. So I thought I’d go ahead and do an episode on it. I do like to occasionally talk about language and how it relates to the culture.
There are many different versions of the story of Saio’s horse that inspired the phrase, but let me tell you mine. I mean it’s basically the same as all the others.
It goes something like this.
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Once upon a time there was a man named Saiō. He wasn’t especially well off, but he wasn’t poor either. In fact, he had one horse. A thing to be very proud of. Back then and to him that horse meant a lot. It was not only a sign of how hard he’d worked to be able to buy it and take care of it, it helped with farming and was used to get around. Not to mention a beloved member of the family.
Well, one day that horse got loose and ran away.
After they heard the news, all the villagers visited Saio and offered their condolences.
“Oh, what an unlucky thing to have happened, Saio. What a shame. Poor Saio.”
But Saio didn’t seem very upset about the matter.
Instead, he said: “Who’s to say what is good and what is bad? How do you know this isn’t a blessing?”
A few days passed and out of the blue his horse returned. But it wasn’t alone. It brought along another horse, a gorgeous wild stallion. This new horse was very strong and very fast. Now he had two horses.
The villagers got wind of the news, and gathered again in his garden and congratulated him.
“Oh, Saio, what a lucky man you are! What an incredibly fortunate thing to have happened to you.”
But Saio always cool and collected answered: “Who’s to say what is good and what is bad. How do you know this isn’t a disaster?”
Not long after that, Saio’s son decided to try and ride this new steed. He climbed on, but being a wild horse it did what wild horses do and promptly bucked him off. The young man was thrown to the ground and broke his leg.
The villagers rushed back to his house, quick to add their commentary on events.
“Oh, Saio, what terrible luck you had. We are so sorry. Such an awful misfortune.”
Saio — not getting sick of them yet — answered:
“Who’s to say what’s good or what’s bad? How do you know this isn’s a blessing?”
The neighbors probably thought Saio was a little off at this point. How can your son falling from a horse and breaking his leg possibly be any kind of good luck?
A little while after that a terrible war broke out on the border. The Emperor called on all the able-bodied young men to be conscripted and go and fight. It was a furious battle and most of the men died. But because Saio’s son’s leg was broken he was spared.
The end.
So obviously this is a parable about what appears to be misfortune can lead to good fortune and what appears to be good fortune can lead to bad. That our immediate judgement in labeling something good or bad is usually short sighted and almost certainly based on incomplete information.
Now hear me out. I think about the stuff I’m seeing on the news, a lot of it is downright heartbreaking and evil, and I spend all day thinking just how terrible it all is. And I still do. Well, the phrase Saio ga Uma ISN’T about bright-siding any of that. But it is a little multifaceted.
I have noticed when everything seems so overwhelming and the world’s burning down around me, I personally find I can get on a roll and make it worse. A weird kind of confirmation bias. A real life example that happened last night. I was cleaning up the kitchen and put a tin of nice loose leaf green tea in the fridge. It was late. I was tired. I knocked it, the lid popped off and green tea went everywhere. I howled. Shut the fridge and went to bed. Everything is conspiring against me.
This morning I’m more “who’s to say what is good or what is bad?” I mean I have to clean it up anyway, and I realize I really, really need to deep clean that fridge and have probably needed to for far longer than I care to admit. Perfect opportunity!
All right. That might be a lame example. And as I sit here, I haven’t actually cleaned it yet. But you get my drift. So with me at least these smaller bouts of bad luck I — if I’m not careful — feel like further proof that every single thing is bad bad bad. Which isn’t always the case. Maybe I just need to look harder for the little sparks of light. On the other hand, being cynical when something good does happen, I’m like what’s the catch? So that’s another way of looking at the phrase.
Then there is that the story of “Saio ga Uma” is also about profound humility when faced with the unknown. Ol’ Saio acknowledges his limits as a mere human, that he doesn’t have perfect understanding and foresight. Humility isn’t passivity. He lost his horse. I don’t know for sure, but I’m guessing he fixed the lock on the barn door after that and I’d like to imagine he went out and searched for the animal for a while. In my interpretation he did DO something where he could.
But he couldn’t go back and change the past. So he learned from whatever happened, and then just kind of rested in the not knowing what’s up next. He realized who is he to label his life events immediately after they happened. This is good or this is bad. He stays humble, pays attention, learns where he can, and then has a let’s wait and see attitude.
Then there’s a third reason I think this story is resonating with me all of the sudden. That is, I was in the hospital for a week at the beginning of this year. I can’t remember if I mentioned it here or kept it just for family, friends, and patrons. But long story short, I had what I was quite sure was the start of another deep vein thrombosis — yes, another — drove myself to the emergency room, explained what I thought was happening. The dr very confidently said there was nothing there, all fine. I pushed back. He pushed back. Two days later Richard is calling the ambulance at three am because I can’t walk and my leg is swollen and blue-black. Anyway, That happened. I’m better now.
But when truly horrible things like that happen it kind of strips everything away and forces you to reevaluate your priorities, dig deeper, find new strengths. I mean that’s what we hope to happen, right? I think for me at least it’s easy to get complacent and fall into routines and habits that probably should be challenged. It might be a stretch but maybe Saio ga Uma has a touch of that, too. Hard to say, 2,000 years ago and we don’t exactly know how he pondered the loss of his horse or his son’s broken leg, or even the good things like the appearance of a new horse or his son not having to go to war. But Saio seems like an introspective sort, doesn’t he?
Then finally — and I might be really milking this story, but I have been thinking about it for awhile — a fourth thing that The Old Man’s Horse has me mulling over is how it sort of suggests connecting with and making peace with the feeling of uncertainty. Like Saio, focus on calming down and keeping centered throughout life’s wild unpredictability. Saio isn’t shattered by a misfortune and he’s not overly excited and full of himself by some stroke of good luck. It’s been said and preached and taught through the centuries, but by remaining calm — shall we call it inner stillness or non attachment as the Buddhists do — it’s easier to navigate life’s ups and downs. You have better perspective, make better choices. Now this isn’t me saying any of this, this is old Saio, a farmer who lived 2,000 years ago and all the people who passed down his story through the ages.
The longer version of the phrase is “Ningen Banji Saio ga Uma”, Everything in life is like Sai’s horse.
If you want to use it in conversation, let’s say your friend gets a parking ticket. Daijoubu, saio ga uma desu yo. Don’t worry. It’s like Saio’s horse. You never know how things will turn out.
Or let’s say you won the lottery, you could temper that excitement with: Ureshii kedo, saio ga uma to mo iu shi, yudan shinai you ni shiyou. I’m really happy, but
as they say, Saio’s horse. I’m not going to be careless.
Anyway, Laozi said something similar in the Dao de ching.
Misery is what happiness rests upon. Happiness is what misery lurks beneath. Who knows where it ends?
Thank you so much for listening to the show, supporting it, and I’m going to go clean that fridge right now, see what’s lurking behind that big jar of olives. I’ll talk to you when I’m done. In about two weeks.
