And then.

A tourist was walking along a harbour when he noticed a fisherman asleep in his boat.

Beside him lay a modest catch.

The tourist woke him.

“You’ve finished already?”

The fisherman nodded.

“I’ve caught enough for today.”

The tourist frowned.

“If you stayed out longer, you’d catch more fish.”

The fisherman smiled.

“And then?”

“You could buy a bigger boat.”

“And then?”

“You could hire a crew.”

“And then?”

“You could build a fleet.”

“And then?”

“You could open a processing factory, export around the world and build a remarkable business.”

“And then?”

“You could sell it all. Retire. Live by the sea. Sleep when you wanted. Spend time with your family. Sit in the sun and watch the boats come and go.”

The fisherman looked at him.

“Just like I am now?”

_______________________________________________________________

I’ve been carrying that story with me this week.

Not because it tells us ambition is misguided. I don’t believe that for a second.

I’ve spent much of my life building. Businesses. Relationships. Fitness. Recovery. Community. There is something deeply human about wanting to create, improve and leave things better than we found them.

The problem isn’t ambition.

The problem is forgetting to ask where it is taking us.

We are remarkably good at setting targets.

Earn more.

Move house.

Grow the business.

Run the marathon.

Retire early.

Every goal has another goal waiting behind it. Every summit reveals another peak. We become so occupied with climbing that we rarely stop to ask why we chose the mountain in the first place.

The tourist in the story never stops asking how.

The fisherman never stops asking why.

Perhaps both questions matter.

This isn’t a call to settle.

Nor is it permission to stop striving.

Some of the richest experiences in life come from building something difficult. From pursuing mastery. From testing yourself. From carrying responsibility.

But every so often it’s worth interrupting the conversation in your own head with two simple words.

And then?

If I get the promotion… and then?

If I finally lose the weight… and then?

If I sell the business… and then?

If I retire… and then?

Keep asking until you arrive at something that no longer needs another answer.

For most people it isn’t another achievement.

It’s usually something much quieter.

Time with people they love.

Health.

Peace of mind.

A walk.

A conversation.

A meal that isn’t rushed.

Watching the sun disappear beneath the horizon.

The irony is that many of those things don’t belong at the end of the journey.

They belong all the way through it.

This week, before you chase the next thing, pause for a moment.

Ask yourself the same question the fisherman asked.

And then?

Big love
Chris