The Simple Life

People I struggle to understand: Those content with less.

I had a chat with an old friend from the east coast today. He’s about my age. Intelligent guy. He decided to not go to college. He’s making about 35K a year doing freelance work for various outlets. I know that life well, I did it on top of my undergraduate work for the first two years I was in college.

He’s getting married soon.

I asked him he’d thought about going to college again. He laughed and said he’d never waste the time or money. I raised the prospect he’ll probably never make more than 45K with his credentials. He said that’s fine, it’d be more than enough for he and his wife-to-be to live off of.

Humanity has survived without generous 401K packages and health benefits for centuries. That’s not what’s in question. The real issue is how people are capable being content with less while so young.

The “less is more” attitude is common in Hawaii, especially in the North Shore surf haven/Polynesian epicenter. If it wasn’t for the “workaholic” genes I inherited from my mother, I’d probably be half tempted to sign up with those crowds.

But what I could never accept that is at age 22 life is as good as it gets — married, quasi-employed and content with no ambitions for anything greater. That’s precisely what I charge my friend and those like him of being guilty with. You can name a few success stories of those who never got their diploma, but they’re few and far between.

Some of my friends argue tangible ambition to achieve more, to do more, is like an atomic reaction in the sense that once it goes off it’s next to impossible to contain it.

For instance, I’m in the prime of my life and I feel like I’m wasting it taking 18+ credit workloads, holding down two jobs, living in freakin’ Hawaii and utilizing time I don’t have to go hiking, swimming and diving.

It’s not about working hard. Its about being content — and I’m not.

Is it a bad thing never feeling content? Hardly, if you don’t push yourself to the limit you’ll never reach your true potential. Of course, there is such a thing as being too driven. You become obsessive. Balance, as I’ve said before, is they key to everything. But even that’s a cop out — of course you need balance in all things.

Achieving it is always easier said than done.

Perhaps a sappy little tale that contains an easily contrived moral is just what we need!

I’ve got just the one courtesy of good old Professor Kimzey taken from his Economics class:

An American businessman was standing 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 yellow-fin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish.

“How long it took you to catch them?” The American asked.

“Only a little while.” The Mexican replied.

“Why don’t you stay out longer and catch more fish?” The American then asked.

“I have enough to support my family’s immediate needs.” The Mexican said.

“But,” The American then asked, “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 a siesta 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, senor.”

The American scoffed, “I am a Harvard MBA and could help you. You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds you buy a bigger boat, and with the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats, eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats.”

“Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the consumers, eventually opening your own can factory. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then LA and eventually NYC where you will run your expanding enterprise.”

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

To which the American replied, “15-20 years.”

“But what then, senor?”

The American laughed and said, “That’s the best part. When the time is right you would announce an IPO (Initial Public Offering) and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich, you would make millions.”

“Millions, senor? Then what?”

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

When he told us this story on the last day of class I was confident his meaning was for us to take things in moderation and to always make time for fun in life.

In hindsight, I think he was really saying we should all drop out of school and forget about this “higher education” crap.

If his clinched stories don’t convince you, just take his bloody final.

It’ll make a believer out of you.

June 5th, 2005 in Journal |