It was a perfect day on the water.
Blue sky. Calm waves. đ˛300 less in my wallet. đ
And I was determined not to leave empty-handed.
4 hours in, my reel screamed:
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzâ
âFISH ON!âI yelled, jumping to my feet like a maniac.
This was it.
The tug-of-war began.
He thrashed.
He jumped.
He did everything in his fishy power to shake the hook loose.
But the harder he fought, the deeper the hook sunk.
Until finally, his muscular body gave out completely, and I was able to haul his beautiful fishy figure up alongside the boat.
âYIPPEE!â I squawked.
âVictory is mine, tuna boy!â
(I even did a smug little victory dance next to himâdonât judge me) đ
But later that night as I was preparing him for dinnerâŚ
I made a grim discovery.
Grey.
From head to tail, what shouldâve been beautiful pink flesh was a mushy, metallic mess!
That đ˛300 sushi-grade dinner I worked so hard for?
Dead in the water.
Now, why the hell am I telling you this?
Because as I stood over this fish, I saw myself in his eyes.
PLUS I had a bit of a lightbulb moment:
See, we high performers are like tuna.
Weâre hooked on pressure.
On stress.
On anxiety.
And we convince ourselves the only way to win is to FIGHT.
To resist.
To swim like our lives depend on it.
But hereâs what we fail to realize:
Burnout isnât a battle you win.
Itâs a game you stop playing.
The smartest move that tuna couldâve made?
Was to cut the line.
Whatâs the smartest move you could make right now?
(Anyway, food for thought!)
In Love and Wisdom,
Pauline
P.S. Step 1 is to cut the line. Step 2 is to remove the hook.
P.P.S. If you donât know how to do either, I teach both inside NUMINOUS.
 đ Click here to learn how to cut the line, remove the hook, and live a life of freedom far from the clutches of burnout!Â




