Why You Don’t Have to Hustle to Be Happy

Hey girlfriend! Have you ever heard the story of the banker and the fisherman?

A banker once saw a fisherman in a small boat, who had just caught several fish. The banker, impressed by the quality of the catch, asked, “How long did it take you to catch all these fish?”

"Just a little while," the fisherman replied.

“What do you do with the rest of your day?” asked the banker.

“I like to sleep in, have breakfast, then go fishing. After that, I spend time with my kids, take an afternoon siesta with my wife, go for a walk in the evening, and meet friends for a drink and some music.”

The banker, eager to offer advice, said, “You have so much free time. Why don’t you fish longer and catch more?”

The fisherman looked at him, puzzled. “Why would I do that?”

“You could make more money, then buy a bigger boat,” said the banker.

“And then what?” the fisherman asked.

“After that, you could buy several boats, build a fleet. You could sell fish directly to consumers, cut out the middlemen. Eventually, you could open your own cannery and control everything—production, processing, distribution.”

“What then?” asked the fisherman.

“Well, in time, you’d need to leave this small coastal village and move to the big city to run a growing empire.”

“How long would that take?” the fisherman asked.

“15 to 20 years,” the banker replied.

“And then what?” the fisherman asked again.

“Eventually, you could IPO, sell stock to the public, and become very rich. You’d be a big-time millionaire.”

The fisherman paused, then asked, “And then?”

The banker smiled. “Then you could retire, move back to a small coastal village, sleep in, fish now and then, play with your kids, take siestas with your wife, go for walks in the evening, and sip wine with friends.”

The fisherman thought for a moment, then simply said, “I’m already doing that.”

The Hustle Mentality and Finding the Balance

Growing up in the city, life was always a rush. There was always somewhere to be, someone to see, something to do. The weekend didn’t mean unwinding—it meant figuring out how much I could pack into those 48 hours before the grind began again.

My family is mostly down South, so every summer, I’d spend time with them. About two years ago, I made the move south for good, and I’ve since adopted a slower pace of life. At first, it was a tough adjustment. Little things—like driving on roads where the speed limit was less than 45 mph—felt like crawling. Stores weren’t open 24 hours, and sometimes they closed early if there were no customers or enough workers. I remember how frustrated I was at the grocery store one day when the cashier and the person in front of me struck up a casual conversation while I was running late. It felt like the whole world was moving at a pace I couldn’t keep up with—yet with a kindness I wasn’t used to.

When people ask me about life on the West Coast, I often say it’s a blend of the East Coast’s energy and the South’s warmth. You get the bustling cities and tourist spots, but there’s a more welcoming, laid-back vibe. It's not as cold as New York, but it’s also not as warm as Georgia, both in temperature and spirit. Louisiana, like many Southern states, is tight-knit. Strangers strike up conversations as if they’ve known each other forever. People are willing to help if they can, and it’s all about that community spirit.

A perfect example of this is the trail ride I went to over Memorial Day weekend. I tagged along with some friends, and ended up riding in the truck of a complete stranger—but that’s just how it is down here. If the vibes are right, everything falls into place. The next day, I was invited to their house for a cookout with chicken, burgers, and beans. I went, of course.

That’s the beauty of the South: it’s a “go-with-the-flow” mentality, and I’ve been embracing it more lately. I realized that the lifestyle so many people are chasing in the city already exists here. At one point, we were satisfied with the simple things—like watching TV with family, or hanging out at the park with friends. But then, somewhere along the way, we were sold this dream: if we worked hard enough, made enough connections, we’d have enough to “live the good life.”

But the South has it all—good food, good people, and good times. “Laissez les bon temps rouler,” as they say. The vibe here is about working hard and enjoying life, no matter how big or small the occasion. On the other hand, city people, sometimes, seem to expect a certain level of glamour for their outings. If there’s no dress code or VIP section with bottles and hookah, it’s as if the event doesn’t even count. And if the pictures don’t turn out well? Well, then the night might as well never have happened.

But there’s something we could all learn from the South. I’ve realized that the dream we chase doesn’t always need to be bigger or more glamorous. We all want to enjoy life, but we often forget that it’s the slowing down that allows us to actually do that. You don’t need to climb a corporate ladder or chase the next big thing to be happy. The ideal life isn’t some distant goal I’m working towards. It’s right here, right now. It’s waking up to a quiet morning, spending time with people who matter, and having the freedom to enjoy the little things. Sometimes, you just need to pause, take a breath, and savor what’s already around you. That’s the kind of richness that money can’t buy.

And I think the fisherman knew that all along.