How A Mexican Fisherman Taught Me A Life Lesson I’ll Never Forget
It hasn’t just shaped my work, it’s also shaped how I live my life
The world doesn’t need more shiny objects, plastic toys, or AI lovemaking machines. If anything, the world needs less.
However, in a fast-paced economy where everyone’s trying to get ahead in fear of being left behind, it’s hard not to get caught up in the feeding frenzy.
I know all about this as an online writer. If it ain’t my need for security or urgent self-doubt that keeps me honest then it’s the relentless algorithms that favour those who create more.
I do believe there is another way though and that’s what was so refreshing about reading Heinrich Böll’s little story.
It breaks the mould. It throws the whole more-is-always-better mindset out the window and questions the consumerist narrative.
Before I continue to share more of why I love it so much, here is the story itself.
I’ll see you on the other side.
An American businessman was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked.
Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took him to catch them.
“Only a little while.” the Mexican replied.
The American businessman then asked, “Well, why don’t you stay out longer and catch more fish?”
“I have enough fish to support my family. That’s all I need.” The Mexican fisherman simply responded.
The American was confused. “What do you do with the rest of your time?” he asked.
The Mexican fisherman didn’t have to think — “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siestas with my wife Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life.”
The American businessman was quiet for a while, still confused, not by the life he was living, but by the life he could be living.
“I am a Harvard MBA and can help you,” he started. “Seeing the way you fish, I think you should spend more time fishing so you can afford a bigger boat. With a bigger boat, you’ll be able to catch more fish. With the money that more fish bring you’ll be able to buy several boats, hire more people and make more profit. Eventually, you would have a whole fleet of fishing boats.
Instead of selling your catch to a buyer, you can become a wholesaler, eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing, and distribution and reap all the financial benefits.
You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village, of course, as it’s too small. Somewhere like Mexico City, LA, or New York would be a much better fit. These places will help you grow your expanding enterprise.”
After he’d finished, the Mexican fisherman asked, “But, how long will this take?”
To which the American businessman replied, “About 15–20 years.”
“And what then?” asked the Mexican.
That’s when the American laughed, chuffed with the opportunity to dazzle the curious fisherman. “That’s the best part. When the time comes you can sell your company and become a very, very rich man. You would make millions!”
“Millions — then what?”
The American was slightly taken aback, “Then you could retire, of course. You could move to a small coastal fishing village where you could sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siestas with your wife, Maria, stroll to the village in the evenings, sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos.”
“But sir,” the Mexican fisherman said. “why would I spend 15–20 years of my life chasing a life I already have?”
The 3 biggest life lessons I’ve learned from this enchanting story
1. Less is more
We don’t need shiner cars, bigger businesses, or grander ideas to be happy. Most of the time all we need is to recognise what’s good in our lives and be thankful for what we have. I know that’s true for myself, anyway.
When I strive for more I often find myself stressed out and less time to enjoy life.
I continuously overexert myself but for what?
It can’t be for the scattered thoughts, lack of sleep, and fast food diet, I’m sure.
When I break it down, it comes from that itch to do more.
This can lead me to write in the evenings and on weekends because I feel I need to. It can lead to me prioritising work over spending time with my beautiful lover, meeting friends, or doing mindfulness practices that support my mental health.
It’s the ‘quantity over quality’ mindset, instead of quality over quantity.
The Mexican fisherman fortunately reminds me that less is more.
“The more you know, the less you need.” — Yvon Chouinard
2. Slow down
In a world that’s only getting faster, slowing down can be a challenge. More, more, more often means quicker, quicker, quicker. But who am I running for (or from)?
As a full-time writer, I often feel this urgency to produce more content, share more information, write more blogs, turn them into books, reach more people, and make more money.
I can sometimes feel like I’m on a hamster wheel that spins around and around and around without an end in sight.
Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do. I love the creative process, I love feeling like I’m on purpose and growing as a person, and I love finding new audiences to share my work with, but I can quickly get carried away in the current of production to the point where I become unbalanced.
Recently, this has caused me to feel like there’s not enough time in the day, or that time is moving too fast to keep up, both of which cause me to feel stressed and anxious unnecessarily.
Luckily, the Mexican fisherman reminds me that there is another way.
“To be content doesn’t mean that you don’t desire more, it means you’re thankful for what you have and patient for what’s to come” — Tony Gaskins
3. I have everything I need right now to be happy
This has been a journey of trusting the universe (and myself) that everything I need is taken care of, that all my bases are covered, and that I’m perfectly safe and happy just as I am.
I glimpse this truth when I’m in the mountains. I also feel it during meditation, breathwork sessions, and on plant medicines.
Basically, I feel it whenever I slow the f*ck down.
When I’m scrambling to do more, however, I often feel like time is slipping through my fingers and I suddenly fall into a scarcity mindset. I worry about money and I see all the things that are lacking in my life.
In those moments, I have to take a deep breath, look around, and notice all the things that are good in my life. Only then can I feel gratitude and gratitude shows me that I already have what I’m searching for.
This then gives me a moment’s rest bite before the games start all over again.
Closing thoughts
This is a story of two people from two very different backgrounds. Neither one is right or wrong. However, I can see a lot of value in how simple yet rich the Mexican fisherman’s life is, and how much time he’s got to spend with family, friends, his beloved guitar, and a few glasses of wine.
In the end, what’s more important?
“The chance to be part of this happens briefly. The invitation is not to show how inventive and imaginative you are but how much you can notice what you’re already part of” — Burgs