Reflection on "The Parable of the Mexican Fisherman"

I found the following yarn while perusing Sean Owen's interesting blog Renewable Wealth, a site dedicated to "financial independence and sustainable living." Entitled "The Parable of the Mexican Fisherman," the story captures, in a nutshell, a refreshing perspective on life and living. I won't spoil it by giving away the ending, but I'll include it here and talk about some more after:

The Parable of the Mexican Fisherman
Author: Unknown

'An American investment banker 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 to catch them.

The Mexican replied, “only a little while.”

The American then asked why didn’t he stay out longer and catch more fish?

The Mexican said he had enough to support his family’s immediate needs.

The American then asked, “but what do you do with the rest of your time?”

The Mexican fisherman said, “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siestas with my wife, Maria, and 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 scoffed. “I have an MBA from Harvard, and can help you,” he said. “You should spend more time fishing, and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat. With the proceeds from the bigger boat, you could buy several boats, and eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middle-man, you could sell directly to the processor, eventually opening up your own cannery. You could control the product, processing, and distribution,” he said. “Of course, you would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then Los Angeles, and eventually to New York City, where you will run your expanding enterprise.”

The Mexican fisherman asked, “But, how long will this all take?”

To which the American replied, “Oh, 15 to 20 years or so.”

“But what then?” asked the Mexican.

The American laughed and said, “That’s the best part. When the time was right, you would announce an IPO, and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions!”

“Millions – then what?”

The American said, “Then you could retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you could sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siestas with your wife, and stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play guitar with your amigos.”'

An interesting story, with a circular twist not unlike the Chinese parable of the Stone Cutter. Both take us from a humble and, in the case of the stone cutter and MBA, dissatisfying place, through a cycle of supposed success and transcendence, until when all is said and done we're back where we started. Everything the characters thought would make them happier or better off turned out to be unnecessary. In some cases, it even left them miserable.   

I suspect we sometimes imagine a circumstance is better simply because it's different from our own. I've been guilt of this on numerous occasions, and still am from time to time. Stories like these help us get out of our own skin, so to speak, and look beyond our immediate impressions of what we like and dislike about life at present. They remind us that "progress" can be a dubious term, as well as a marker of legitimate growth. 

And finally, they encourage patience and contentedness with ordinary life. By coming full circle, stories like these suggest there is nothing "extra" one needs beyond the ordinary; that fulfillment is as much an attitude as a state of being.

A curious thought.