My Fisherman and the Businessman

Today, I’m reminded of the story of the fisherman and the businessman which I always liked but never quite truly internalized:

“A fisherman is laying out under the sun, listening to the sounds of water lapping lightly at the shore, the flaps of birds wings high overhead, and tree leaves playfully rustling. His fishing line bobs gently in rhythm with the tiny ripples pushed across the surface by a lazy breeze, when a shadow drifts over him. A businessman stands over him and asks, “What are you doing here? You are young and capable of work yet, if you had some funds you could buy yourself a boat and catch twice the fish.”

The fisherman replies, “I’ll catch all the fish I need today, what use have I for more?”

“Well, you could sell the fish you don’t need and then you’d have the money to buy an even bigger boat. You could venture into deeper waters and catch even more fish, bigger fish!”

“And what would I do with those fish?”

“Aren’t you listening? Use that head on your shoulders, you could sell them and buy a whole fleet of boats! You could pay others to man your fleet and catch all of the fish for you!”

“And what would I do then?”

“Why, anything you like! What would you want to do?”

“I think I’d like to lay out under the sun by the water, and catch some fish”

No longer will I allow my life to be pushed along by the concept of money like the husk of a wizard’s body hiking the freezing flurries of Antarctica pushed along by the spells he cast long before he forgot why he cast them. Why would I want to win the lottery or keep on making more and more money if I can’t even tell you what I’d do with it? The means have become the ends. Until I can tell you what it’s for I hereby renounce my blind and destinationless pursuit of money. Of more.

So what is it you want? Why do you live?

I want to enjoy time with my family and friends. I want to play. I want to see new lands. I want to know what the world looks like from high peaks and low valleys. I want to see the sky tear itself apart, shine brightly, and open into the inkiest black through which only nebulic light illuminates my bed. I want to cook and eat and share delightful meals. I want to read, listen to music, watch movies, and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk until my feet have touched more places on this planet than my bank account has seen dollars. I’ve done this exercise several times and I’ve never listed an item which would require any kind of lottery win, even a small one.

So why do I continue to chase it? Especially when the chase creates its own new requirements? At a certain point I stopped pursuing money in order to do what I wanted and started pursuing money in order to enable me to fund the pursuit of more money.

It is high time for an audit.

What does my dream life truly cost? How can I fund it in a way most consistent with my desires?