As we reflect on our own lives, one can’t help but wonder which moments along the way made him who he is. Are we a collection of events and decisions that shape us? Earlier this week I remembered my first attempt at writing a fiction book. I think I was 14 years old back then, and my goal was to finish writing 10,000 words within a few months of pure fiction literature and gradually expand on it. The story was inspired by a family trip I had in Switzerland. We were near the Alps, and our driver told us a story about a family whose father would go fishing everyday for lunch. He would climb a hill to a nearby lake, and every evening he’d come back for supper with one fish that his family would have for dinner; never more and never less. One day, a tourist saw him, and told him what an investment it would be if he actually caught more fish and started selling it to all the tourists who came by the area. The man simply replied by saying “Why would I? I’m satisfied