my version of the Greek fisherman parable

It had been a long time since I’d caught the train to Melbourne, so it was kind of interesting and kind of depressing to stand on the platform for a couple of days this past week, with what felt like 150 other people, waiting to do the commute. It bought back memories, not all good.

In case this post is misunderstood - there is nothing wrong with commuting to work. Doing good work is an important and necessary part of being an active citizen, making a contribution to society and helping provide for our families and loved ones. But it’s got out of hand. How have our lives got so busy chasing more money and experiences?

This morning I saw a re-post of a parable I’d heard many years ago. It takes different forms in different cultures, and every version I’ve heard is about a fisherman, but the message is the same. I thought I’d have a go at writing a version for my context.

A parable

Once upon a time there was a bloke who lived in a seaside village with his gorgeous partner who he loved at lot. Although he was arguably in the prime season of his professional contribution, he only worked about half the time. He wandered the town, drinking coffee and talking with people. When the sun was out he swam in the river, when the conditions were favourable, which didn’t seem that often, he surfed, and in the early afternoon he often snoozed in the hammock on the deck.

Every morning he got up early and swam in the ocean with some close friends, and afterwards they would huddle over coffee and share their lives in uncomplicated banter. As the clock ticked towards 7am the energy at the café changed. Gaggles of fitness oriented friends began to arrive and peppered between them were well dressed commuters grabbing their morning caffeine before driving to the big smoke for a day of important back to back productivity.

One day, as the bloke sipped the last of his morning coffee, another local fella in running gear walked purposefully into the café to grab a drink. This fella did similar work, but it was a late-start day, so he stood at the table for a chat.

“So, what’s happening? Are you still working these days?”, he asked with purpose.

“Yes”, the bloke said. “But only two or three days a week. And we’ve decided to sell our house, to downsize to declutter our lives.”

“I’d love to have the time to clean out my place,” the other fella responded, “but I’m flat out with work. I’ve got clients ringing me all the time and I’ve had to put on some people to help me. I’m hoping to open an office up in the big smoke so I don’t have to travel up there so often. Ideally I’ll have an apartment up there too. It’s pretty exciting. Have you thought about taking someone on to do some of your more transactional stuff?”

“If I was working full time that might make sense but I haven’t got that many clients these days”, the bloke said slowly.

“But just think … ”, the other fella said enthusiastically. “Imagine if you had a team of people, you could charge them out at a rate that leveraged your reputation, and you’d have a stream of passive income to add to what you earn.”

“The thought of managing a team of people makes me tired, I’m not sure I’ve got the appetite for that,” the bloke sighed.

“If all you do is sell your time, you’re stuck with a constrained income and you’ll never get ahead,” the other fella replied with conviction. “If you grow the business with a diverse set of product and service offerings, you can multiply the range of clients you serve, increase your income and build a legacy for the good work I hear you are doing.”

“Why would want to do that?” the bloke asked, with a tinge of curiosity.

The other fella was starting to get frustrated at the lack of business nous on display. This bloke clearly didn’t understand. “Jeez,” he said. “I’ve heard you do really good work. If you built a business around what you do, and managed it well, not only would you generate some decent coin, a buyer will likely come along, and write you a big cheque. Then happy days. You might even be able to retire. I’m so looking forward to that myself.”

“What would I do with all that money? And besides, I reckon I’d get bored if I wasn’t making a contribution of some kind.”

“It might take a while, and you’d have to work hard and make some sacrifices that your family won’t appreciate at the time, but if you eventually generate enough wealth, you could buy a nice place in a town where you’d love to live, and spend your days drinking coffee with friends and swimming.”

Boom boom!

I have been seduced with the idea that growth is better. That faster, bigger, shinier, more comfortable, more convenient and efficient are unquestionably to be the object of my aspirations. And that slow, less, small, aged, same old, and doing things the long hard way are to be pitied. For me it’s not just about ‘stuff’, it’s about lifestyle. I don’t want the fast lane. I want a life that celebrates slow savouring, raw beauty and vulnerable goodness. Now. Not in a fantasised future.