In the 1960s in a small village in France, there was a group of teenage boys who would run around the town together. They would occasionally chat with the old men of the town, who would sit at a cafe and socialize. One day, one of the boys got a moped, and would race it around town. The rest of the boys were jealous.
“See how lucky he is!” the boys said to the old man. “Look at how much fun he has riding his new moped around town.” The old man smiled.
“We shall see," he replied. A few weeks later the boy on the moped had disappeared. “Where did he go?” The old man asked.
“Ah!” the boys responded. “ He broke his arm and leg while riding, and will need many surgeries. He may never walk again. Turns out he was very unlucky!”
Again, the old man smiled. “We shall see.”
The boy did not recover quickly, and required many surgeries. In the meantime, France went to war with Algeria, and many of the boys were required to serve in the army. But the boy who had broken his arm and leg was exempted. Again, the boys came to the old man. “Turns out, those broken bones were lucky. Now he does not have to go to Africa.”
“Yes,” the old man nodded, “We shall see.”
We often have strong feelings about whether something in our life is lucky or unlucky, a blessing or a curse. Similarly, we often have strong feelings about world events, or changes in our jobs or our friends. We build up certain outcomes in our minds, equating them with salvation and happiness or with calamity and catastrophe. In reality, though, we do not know how anything is going to turn out. We do not know which of the things that we fear and dread will end up being a watershed moment—or which things that we believe will be fantastic turn out to be a curse.
World War II was arguably the most tragic event of the twentieth century, with horrors by the millions. Yet out of that cataclysm grew one of the longest, most sustained periods of peace and prosperity in modern history. Entire nations, devastated by war, rebuilt themselves into economic powerhouses. The conflict drove tremendous advances in medicine, technology, and international cooperation, leading to institutions designed to prevent future wars. While no one would ever wish for the grief that war wrought, even the darkest chapters of humanity can have unintended positive consequences.
Many of my patients who are in recovery from a substance use disorder attribute that dark period of their lives with making them the person they are today. It does not mean it was a good time. Many suffered profoundly, lost relationships, and made choices they deeply regret. But from that pain often comes incredible growth. Strength, resilience, and self-awareness emerged in ways that might never have developed without the suffering that preceded them.
Likewise, those diagnosed with type 1 diabetes—especially at a young age—often experience a transformation they never would have chosen. They are forced to develop maturity, discipline, and a deep understanding of their own bodies far earlier than their peers. Managing blood sugar levels, calculating insulin doses, and navigating the unpredictability of living with type 1 require constant vigilance. None of this is fun. But many people with type 1 diabetes find that the challenges shape them into highly capable, caring, resilient adults in ways they never expected.
This is not to say that suffering is good, nor is it to argue that we should seek hardship (life will bring that to us without going looking). It is not to say that we should be indifferent to challenges or tragedy, or that we should accept it with indifference. Rather, it is a reminder that we do not always know what a given event means in the grand scheme of our lives– or in the history of the world. What feels like disaster today may, in time, reveal itself as a turning point toward something greater. And what seems like a stroke of luck may come with hidden costs.
Perhaps the best response when we encounter difficulties is not to immediately judge them as good or bad, but to pause, take a breath, and remember the words of the old man:
“We shall see.”
Cheers,
Doc
Forwarded this email? Sign-up here
Follow me on Bluesky | LinkedIn