🍂 The Taoist Horse Story
A farmer’s horse runs away.
The neighbours say, “Bredda, dat wicked, a wah kinda crosses dat?”
The farmer says, “We’ll see.”
The next day the horse comes back with four wild horses.
The neighbours say, “Yow boss, blessings a rain pon yuh! Yuh lucky bad man!”
The farmer says, “We’ll see.”
The farmer’s son tries to ride one of the wild horses and breaks his leg.
The neighbours say, “Lawddd star! Dis nuh look good at all!”
The farmer says, “We’ll see.”
The army comes to recruit all the able-bodied young men for war, but the son can’t go because of his broken leg.
The neighbours say, “Yow boss, yuh lucky enuh! If him foot never bruk, dem woulda carry him gone!”
Farmer Brown responds
“We’ll see.”
I first heard this story from two girls I met at Kingston Language Linkup. Four Red Stripes in, one told me about learning HSK4 Chinese in one year, the other about Taoism, about living openly. I wish I remembered their names (Red Stripe erased that from time), but I remember how they made me feel.
That story looked simple at first. But it kept coming back to me in the weirdest, realest moments.
Like right now — crawling under tables with cheese in Europe, wondering if I’ve changed too much, trying to figure out what any of this means.
In J. Cole’s song “Let Go My Hand,” referring to his son who let go of his hand today, he says:
“Sometimes I question whether this shit matters
Puttin’ substance into something in a world so used to instant gratification”
Maybe I’m writing this for my future daughters. Maybe it’s just an ego boost. Maybe I’m documenting a mind in transition — from yam to baguette to noodles and somewhere in between.
Whatever it is, it starts with a horse running away.
The Horse Runs Away
Kingston, 2024
Digicel 9–5
French Teaching 6:30–8:30.
IT by day. French by night. That rhythm felt right. Purposeful. Disciplined.
IT was my career. French was my side hustle. Kingston was my world — the drives to Mobay, the talks about Mbappé and weed and internal friend group drama and everything else, meeting every kind of human: Jamaican, Cameroonian, French, Australian, Japanese, American.
Those 4-hour drives with windows down shaped me more than I realized.
China kept coming up in those conversations. In tech, China was big. In Jamaica, China was everywhere — supermarkets, construction sites, the highway to Ochi, my stomach (chicken chow mein bro, or sweeet and sour chicken).
The world felt bigger than Kingston.
I told myself, We’ll see.
The Horse Comes Back With 4
France, 2024
I came for the master’s program.
I enrolled in Chinese because i wanted to come back and connect wid my Jamaican Chinese brothers and sisters for real.
Tones, characters, Taoism, XiDaDa — crazy, but interesting.
My first-year Chinese teacher was a small, energetic woman who walked into class smiling like she carried sunlight in her pocket. She taught with music, poems, stories about dynasties and her childhood.
When she talked about emperors or even classroom traditions, it felt like hearing Anansi stories for the first time. I’d sit there like a little boy, mind blown or reflecting on how we do that too, back home.
But the best part?
No conjugations. No tenses. No gender. No moods.
After French, that is how I know God real.
Suddenly I wasn’t just in France for a degree. I was learning a new philosophy, a new way of seeing. Doors I didn’t even know existed were opening.
Neighbors: “Yow boss, blessings a rain pon yuh! Big big luck! French AND Chinese? You gonna be unstoppable!”
Me: “We’ll see.”
The Son Breaks His Leg
France, 2025
Some days I wonder if I’m helping Jamaica as much as I could be.
If I’m becoming too distant or “global,” whatever that means.
Sometimes I sit around a lunch table with 10 Chinese students and tell myself maybe Jamaica selling Goat Island was worth it — a bridge between cultures, opportunities, philosophies meeting.
Other times I feel like a traitor for even having thought about that even just 1 time. Like I haven’t contributed anything to the Jamaican economy in over 6 months while getting a notification that my Temu package is en route.
Have I betrayed the country that raised me?
The soil that grew the yam I ate for 25 years?
Did I trade callaloo and dumpling for baguette and noodles?
The guilt sits heavy sometimes.
Perfecting my French means I’m forgetting yard slang. Eating Chinese food means the yam going to spoil. Every step forward feels like a step away.
Neighbours: “Lawddd star! Dis nuh look good at all! Him gone foreign and forget him roots!”
Me: “We’ll see.”
🌾 一粒米天地
“One grain of rice holds the grace of all of Heaven.”
This week I emailed my Chinese teacher from last year. She responded with:
“One inch of sunshine is worth more than a pound of gold.”
一寸光阴 一寸金
It was so good bro😭. It lifted me.
When I think back to those Kingston drives — the random conversations, the jokes, the box food — all of that felt small at the time.
But looking back?
Those were grains of rice.
Tiny moments holding the whole sky of who I became.
Even the stupid moments.
Why I’m Under the Table With Cheese
The electrician came today.
I made some language mistakes—still, after 15 years of French and 2 years in France—but it was fine.
Meanwhile me inside:
He fixed my stove, then I asked him about the front door light. He took out l’ampoule, put it in another socket, and it lit up instantly. He looked at me with that “yuh seet deh” smile:
“Voilà le problème.”
And my stupid self said:
“Ahh bah oui, évidemment c’est l’ampoule.”
He laughed because I was completely wrong — the bulb was fine. It was the socket. I joined the laugh because damn, it was obvious.
Freal.
Then there was the plumber. Came to fix the dishwasher, changed les vannes, and somewhere in his speech about strong piping he said:
“Il faut vivre avec son temps.”
I asked what it meant. He hit me with:
“Bahhh… faut vivre avec son temps.”
Bro said the same thing twice like a riddle. But the second time? It resonated 😭.
I’ve been thinking about that line for two weeks. It’s one week away from becoming my Scotia password.
Even tonight, I crawled under the table holding cheese because I just learned how to say “I am under the table with cheese” in Chinese — and personally, if I don’t live the sentence, I won’t remember it.
My girl laughed at me. The neighbours would think I’ve lost it.
But ridiculous moments? That’s how I grow.
They’re grains of rice. Tiny embarrassments holding entire lessons.
The neighbours: “Him crawling under table wid cheese? madman medz!”
Me: “We’ll see.”
War Is Avoided
The electrician left. Everything was working.
Then suddenly: the whole apartment loses power.
My stove short circuits again.
My Crocs break.
I’m sitting there in the dark thinking, “Jah kno”
But then—right after that chaos—I get an email.
An internship opportunity. A good one.
The broken leg that kept me out of war.
The neighbours: “Yow boss, yuh lucky enuh! If the stove never short circuit or dishwasher never bruk, you woulda never hear the wisdom from the french people dem!”
Me: “We’ll see.”
So What Am I Even Saying?
I guess learning Chinese wasn’t really about Chinese.
It was about the small things: a misdiagnosed lightbulb, a plumber’s wisdom, a teacher’s kindness, my girlfriend’s laugh when I’m under the table with cheese like a madman.
From Jamaica to France to China and back again, nothing big has happened.
Just a thousand tiny moments that changed the way I move through the world.
Grains of rice. Each one holding Heaven.
So maybe this journey isn’t about achievement or how much I bring back.
I’m not abandoning Jamaica.
I’m just widening the borders a little — enough for baguette and noodles to sit beside the yam.
The guilt? Still there sometimes. But I’m learning to sit with it. To trust the process. To believe that these years abroad aren’t a betrayal—they’re preparation.
Bad luck? Good luck?
We’ll see.
But if I had to choose between yam, baguette, or noodles?
We all know the real answer will always be:
Rice.
Author’s note: I’m listening to Jden, who says, “I write songs like these ones, simply as distractions to make me feel like I’m doing something bigger than my passions… but I’m just lying to myself again.”
I have exams this week