Radical Contentment: What If Nothing Is Missing?

The contentment you seek and the life you really want are often hidden at first and eventually found where you least expect.

Or an opportunity comes along that makes you appreciate that you are radically content with the life you have built.

I wrote an email a few years ago about a story that captured this second truth.

Here’s the story.

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A successful businessman was on vacation in a small coastal village when he noticed a fisherman docking his small boat with a few freshly caught fish.

The businessman complimented the fisherman on the quality of his fish and asked, “How long did it take you to catch them?”

"Only a little while," the fisherman replied.

The businessman then asked, "Why don’t you stay out longer and catch more fish?"

The fisherman smiled and said, “This is enough to support my family’s needs.”

"But what do you do with the rest of your time?" the businessman asked.

The fisherman answered, “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take a nap with my wife, and in the evenings, I stroll into the village to sip wine and play guitar with my friends. I have a full and happy life.”

The businessman scoffed. “I have an MBA and can help you. If you fish longer, you can sell more fish. With the extra money, you can buy a bigger boat. With a bigger boat, you can catch even more fish and buy more boats. Eventually, you could have an entire fleet.”

"Then what?" asked the fisherman.

"Then," the businessman continued, "instead of selling to a middleman, you could sell directly to consumers, open your own factory, and control the whole supply chain. You could move to the City, then Los Angeles, then New York, where you'd run your expanding enterprise.”

"How long would this take?" the fisherman asked.

"About 15 to 20 years," the businessman replied.

"And then what?"

The businessman laughed, "That’s the best part! When the time is right, you can sell your company and make millions."

"Millions? And then what?"

"Then," the businessman said, "you could retire, move to a small coastal village, sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take naps with your wife, and spend evenings playing guitar with your friends."

The fisherman smiled, nodded, and walked away.

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My story has been about rediscovering joy and redefining success.

I’ve let go of the pressure to build an empire, dominate an industry, or be the best.

The pressure and temptation to be bigger and better are real.

My career as a therapist and CEO is my calling—helping the people God puts in front of me.

Radical contentment for me is the luxury of time, slow mornings, a peaceful mind, restful sleep, deep, meaningful conversations, a can’t-live-without-you kind of love, and the freedom to choose how I spend my days.

Success isn’t just about making a living; it’s about making a life.

Naturally, when I stumbled upon this fisherman story—which perfectly captures the message—I had to share it with you.

When the Journey Is Necessary

I recently finished the book The Alchemist, which captures the first truth of this email: the contentment you seek and the life you really want are often hidden at first and eventually found where you least expect.

The main character, Santiago, has a recurring dream about finding treasure, and he decides to leave his familiar life to go on a long, risky journey to find it.

Along the way, he loses his money, is physically injured, and experiences heartbreak. Eventually, after many trials, he realizes the treasure was in the exact spot where his journey began—in his own backyard all along.

The point isn’t that the journey was unnecessary.

It’s that you often have to go out into the world to understand what’s already yours.

It’s the leaving that makes the return sacred.

Growth, wisdom, and maturity come from the journey. What you seek externally often lives internally or close to home. You must become the person capable of recognizing the treasure.

Without the journey, there would be no return, no revelation of your true self, no understanding of your purpose, and no experience of lasting contentment.

If Santiago had found the treasure at the beginning, he wouldn’t have known its value.

The journey gave him:

• Discernment instead of fantasy

• Depth instead of urgency

• Faith instead of fear

• Humility instead of the need to prove

• Surrender instead of grasping

Did You Miss God? Make a Mistake? Follow the Wrong Path?

Santiago searches for the treasure that began with a dream, following signs he believed were from God and accepting wise counsel along the way.

It’s tempting to finish the book and wonder: why couldn’t he have just known the treasure was in his own backyard the entire time and not have to suffer through a painful journey across the desert to Egypt?

As is the case for many of us who also “leave” to go on a journey, it’s not that we are wrong or have misinterpreted God’s signs, neglected His will, or didn’t hear His voice correctly—our treasure requires a lived experience to decode.

For Santiago, it was not deception. It was initiation.

But he only learned how to recognize his treasure after he left.

He didn’t misinterpret the dream—he had to live it.

He was following promptings and signs that unfolded over time.

The path itself is not wrong; it reveals what you cannot yet see.

The journey points him, and us, toward growth, not just treasure.

The message isn’t:

“You are wrong about your dream.”

It’s:

“Your dream is deeper than you thought.”

Sometimes what we chase isn’t wrong—it’s formative. Sometimes the place we think holds the treasure is the place that teaches us how to see it.

Revelation is progressive. Faith is taking one step at a time. Following God’s plan requires making mistakes and taking risks. It’s not about being perfect—it’s about being human.

Think of it this way:

If Santiago had dug under the tree at the beginning, he would have found gold—but he would still be the same man.

Instead, he becomes:

• courageous

• intuitive

• spiritually awake

• capable of love without clinging

• aligned with himself

There’s a kind of reverence.

He understands the treasure wasn’t just something he found—it’s something he became ready to receive.

I believe our treasure—success, happiness, contentment—is hidden in plain sight but protected by maturity. It can only be accessed after becoming someone who can hold it.

The treasure is material—but the real treasure is internal transformation. Radical contentment.

The Deeper Psychological Layer

I’ve witnessed this in my therapy work with clients and in my own life:

You have to get to your dream destination and realize, “Oh, I thought that was going to be the answer.”

"But now that it’s not, I can let go of that." 

People assume the thing they think they should want will fix their problems, only to eventually realize it’s not the answer.

Most often, we chase more, not realizing we’ve already achieved the goals we once said would make us happy.

Dreams we once prayed for that we’re standing in now.

Usually, everyone thinks in one form or another, “I’ll be happy when…” yet they’re holding their happiness and contentment hostage.

They’re not finding contentment in the present. They’re not happy now—they’re in a perpetual holding pattern.

Wherever you go, there you are.

There will never be a time when life is without problems.

So when are you going to “arrive?”

There is always another achievement to feed the insatiable voice within—the one that says you need to prove because you aren’t good enough or lovable.

What you seek externally often lives internally or close to home—in the things or people right in front of you.

Both stories—The Fisherman and The Alchemist—reveal invaluable lessons.

In The Alchemist, going on a massive journey only to end up back where you started is not the same as having never left. Your treasure is not new, just uncovered.

Or like The Fisherman—not feeling tempted to chase a “bigger, better” life, only to give up the life you’re already living.

It’s not flashy.

It’s rooted.

It’s yours.

You must become the person capable of recognizing that contentment—and be radical about protecting it once you do.

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Need help dealing with overwhelm, constant striving, or the feeling something is missing? Get in touch to request a therapy appointment.

This post includes reflections inspired by The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, and the well-known Mexican fisherman parable.