The Rule of “Maybe”

Why the best leaders don’t rush to label wins and losses

Last year, I set a simple but ambitious goal: 50 in-person coffees.

Some were networking. Some were friendships. Many turned into podcast conversations you got to hear. But some of the best ones? They happened off-mic — the kind of conversations that don’t chase clicks, but quietly change how you think.

This story came from one of those.

Every Christmas I head back to Northern Virginia to visit my oldest sister and her family. Just down the road is my alma mater, Marymount University — and a cluster of old teammates, coaches, and friends who helped shape who I am.

One of them is Johannah Zabal, aka Coach Jo — former classmate, strength coach, and a friend of more than 20 years. Every Christmas Eve we have a standing tradition: catch up on life, grab coffee, and knock out last-minute shopping.

Last year, we took that tradition back to where it all started — our old college weight room — and recorded her now-famous “7 Rules to Live By.”

A couple weeks ago over lunch, we realized she needed to add a new one.

It was for those moments when you’re “feeling the ends” — when life feels either unbelievably good or brutally bad.

We call it:

The Rule of “Maybe.”

And to understand it, you have to hear this story.

The Story of the Chinese Farmer

There once was a farmer in ancient China who lived a simple life.

One day, his only horse ran away.

That evening, the neighbors gathered around him, shaking their heads.
“Terrible luck,” they said. “This is awful.”

The farmer replied:

“Maybe.”

The next day, the horse returned — but it didn’t come alone.
It brought seven wild horses with it.

The neighbors rushed over, celebrating.
“How incredible! You’re so blessed!”

The farmer said:

“Maybe.”

The next day, the farmer’s son tried to tame one of the wild horses. He was thrown off and broke his leg.

The neighbors came by, full of sympathy.
“How tragic. What terrible luck.”

The farmer said:

“Maybe.”

The day after that, army officers arrived in the village to draft young men for war. When they saw the son’s broken leg, they passed him over.

The neighbors beamed.
“How wonderful! What amazing luck!”

And the farmer replied:

“Maybe.”

Why Coach Jo Teaches This Rule

Coach Jo has a saying:

“We’re never going to be masters at anything — but we should always be striving toward mastery.”

Part of mastery is realizing something most people miss:

We’re standing too close to the canvas to see the full picture.

We rush to label everything.

You lose a client → disaster
You get promoted → success
An athlete gets cut → failure
A kid gets more playing time → victory

But life doesn’t operate in straight lines.

It’s an integrated system of cause and effect that stretches farther than our emotions, our timelines, and our perspective.

We don’t know the consequences of our bad fortune.
We don’t know the consequences of our good fortune.

That’s why Coach Jo’s rule isn’t passive — it’s wise.

It doesn’t mean you stop planning.
Coach Jo loves a good ConOp (Concept of Operations).
It means you stop assuming that this moment is the final chapter.

The farmer’s “maybe” wasn’t indifference.

It was humility.

It was the understanding that life is bigger than our labels.

The Coaching Application

As coaches and leaders, we live in the emotional extremes.

We get blamed.
We get praised.
We get second-guessed.
We get put on pedestals.

If you let every moment define you, you’ll be exhausted — and eventually, you’ll be broken.

The Rule of “Maybe” gives you stability in the chaos.

It lets you feel deeply without getting trapped.

It lets you stay grounded when things go wrong — and when they go right.

Your Takeaway

Coach Jo teaches us to “feel the ends.”

Feel the joy.
Feel the disappointment.
Let them teach you.

But don’t let them own you.

When the horse runs away, don’t assume your life is over.
When the wild horses arrive, don’t assume you’ve made it.

Sit quietly in the moment.

Understand that every ending is also a beginning — and that every loss hides a gift you can’t see yet.

So the next time the world tries to tell you that you’ve failed…
Or finally “made it”…

Take a breath.
Look the moment in the eye.
And say:

Maybe.

Raise the Game

If you’re ready to modernize your coaching, deepen your impact, and develop athletes who become leaders—not just performers—this course is your playbook.

Share this blog with a coach who needs it.
Drop me an email if this message hit home.

Your athletes are waiting for a coach who understands their language…
A coach who can connect, communicate, and elevate.

Let’s raise the game—together.

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