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Rebel Talk: Recharge
I’ve always believed in the grind.
Work hard. Build something. Chase the next goal. Keep moving when other people stop. Push through the hard days because eventually those hard days turn into something worth having.
I still believe every damn word of that.
But lately I’ve been reminded that there’s another side to being relentless that we probably don’t talk about enough.
Sometimes you need to stop.
My girlfriend’s company has something they call a “Recharge.” She gets six weeks of paid time off to step away from work, reset, and actually live a little bit without the constant pull of emails, meetings, deadlines, and whatever else normally fills the calendar.
And when I heard about it, I thought it was pretty damn cool.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized something.
Why do we need a company to give us permission to recharge?
Maybe we all need one.
Maybe it isn’t six weeks. Maybe nobody is paying you while you do it. Maybe your life, job, business, kids, bills, or responsibilities make six weeks completely impossible.
That’s okay.
Because a recharge doesn’t have to look the same for everyone.
Over the last couple weeks, I spent four days at the cabin with my boys. We fished. Hung out. Did cabin stuff. Nothing particularly extravagant.
I came home for a day, and then my girlfriend and I kicked off her Recharge by going to an outdoor Goo Goo Dolls concert.
Then we headed back to the cabin together for five days.
Now she’s getting on a plane and heading to Europe for two weeks.
Different places. Different people. Different experiences.
But all of it has reminded me how important it is to occasionally get off the damn treadmill.
I saw a story today that drove that point home.
A businessman was visiting a small fishing village when he saw a local fisherman coming back with his catch.
The businessman asked him why he didn’t stay out longer and catch more fish.
The fisherman basically asked, “Why?”
Well, the businessman explained, if you caught more fish, you could sell them and make more money.
“Then what?”
Then you could buy a bigger boat.
“Then what?”
Catch even more fish. Make even more money. Eventually buy several boats. Hire people. Build a company. Grow it into something huge.
“Then what?”
Eventually, the businessman explained, you could retire.
The fisherman asked what he would do then.
The businessman told him he could move to a little fishing village, wake up when he wanted, fish for a while, spend time with his family, take an afternoon nap, have a drink with his friends and enjoy his life.
The fisherman was already doing exactly that.
That one stuck with me.
Because I’m the businessman.
And I’m guessing a lot of you are too.
I’m always thinking about the next thing.
The next business move.
The next project.
The next property.
The next goal.
The next thing I can build, improve, accomplish, fix, buy, create, or turn into something bigger.
And there’s nothing wrong with that.
Ambition has built a lot of the life I get to enjoy today. Hard work matters. Sacrifice matters. Building something matters.
I will never be the guy telling you to stop chasing what you want.
But there’s a dangerous little trap hidden inside ambition.
Someday.
Someday I’ll slow down.
Someday I’ll take the trip.
Someday I’ll spend more time with the kids.
Someday I’ll go fishing.
Someday I’ll sit around the fire.
Someday I’ll call that friend.
Someday, when the business is bigger.
Someday, when there’s more money.
Someday, when the house is finished.
Someday, when things calm down.
Someday, when I finally have enough.
But what if “enough” keeps moving?
What if every time you catch another fish, you decide you need a bigger boat?
Then another boat.
Then a fleet.
Then an empire.
And somewhere along the way, you forget why the hell you wanted any of it in the first place.
That’s the lesson I’m taking from these last couple weeks.
Build the boat. Just remember to go fishing.
Work your ass off.
Chase the dream.
Take the risk.
Build something you're proud of.
Make the money.
Create the life nobody handed you.
But every once in a while, recharge.
Not because you’re weak.
Not because you’ve lost your edge.
Not because you suddenly stopped being hungry.
Recharge because this is the life you were working so damn hard to build in the first place.
Your recharge might be Europe.
It might be five days at a cabin.
It might be a concert on a summer night.
It might be taking your kids fishing.
It might be shutting your phone off for an afternoon and sitting on the deck.
It might just be waking up Saturday morning and deciding that for once, nothing needs to get accomplished today.
We don't all have the same circumstances.
We don't all have six weeks.
But we all have a life happening right now.
And none of us knows exactly how many summers, concerts, fishing trips, campfires, mornings with our kids, nights with the people we love, or ordinary Tuesdays we have left.
So keep building.
Keep grinding.
Keep becoming more.
Be relentless about the life you want.
But don't spend your entire life preparing to live someday.
Every once in a while, put the fishing pole in your hand, sit your ass down, and realize...
Maybe some of the things you're chasing are already sitting right in front of you.
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