I came across this story about a businessman who was on vacation. He ended up in a small fishing village, and over a few days of wandering around, he noticed one fisherman who seemed happier and more at ease than everyone else there.

So he asked the guy what his days looked like. Pretty simple, it turned out. Breakfast with his wife and kids, kids off to school, a few hours of fishing, enough caught to feed the family, a nap, dinner, then evenings walking the beach with his wife while the kids swam.

The businessman couldn't quite get his head around it. "You do this every day?"

Most days, the fisherman said. He mentioned he usually caught more than what the family needed and just let the extra go. He just liked fishing. He wasn't trying to build anything out of it.

That's where the businessman couldn't help himself. Why not fish longer, sell the surplus, buy a second boat, then a third, hire other fishermen, open an office in the city, build out a whole distribution business. Give it ten years and he could be running something real.

The fisherman asked him, why would he do all that.

For the money, the businessman said. Enough to eventually retire.

And then what, the fisherman asked.

Well, whatever you want, the businessman said.

The fisherman thought about it. Maybe he'd have breakfast with his family. Fish a little, just for himself. Spend evenings on the beach with his wife, watching their kids swim until the sun went down.

The businessman pointed out that by the time all that money showed up, the kids would already be grown.

The fisherman just smiled, shook his hand, and wished him a good rest of his vacation.

I sometimes overthink about productivity, like I'm not putting my all building toward something. But the truth this story keeps circling back to is that the best days might not be waiting at the end of the climb. They might be the ones one is already in.