The below story “The Happiest Man in Atlantis” a text version (thanks chatgpt) of a video from Shaan Puri. I have been following his podcast My First Million for a few years and today’s episode was one of the most impactful things I’ve listened to. It hit me right at a time when I needed it, and best of all it is short, simple and to the point. If you don’t have 3 minutes to read it entirely and think about it, save it for later.

The Happiest Man in Atlantis

Part 1

Once upon a time in the ancient kingdom of Atlantis, there lived a Prince who was the richest man in the land. He drank the finest wines, wore luxurious silks, and enjoyed the company of the most beautiful women. Servants attended to his every need from dawn till dusk. Yet the Prince was unhappy. Each morning he awoke in his grand palace, was bathed and clothed by his servants, and gazed out over his kingdom feeling nothing but emptiness.

One night, the Prince decided he had had enough of his hollow life of luxury. Under the cover of darkness, he disguised himself in tattered clothes and slipped away from the palace. After walking a long while, he stopped at a tavern in a distant village to rest and drown his sorrows in wine. As he sat in the smoky room, he overheard two sailors at a nearby table speaking in hushed, excited tones about someone extraordinary.

“They say he is the happiest man in Atlantis,” one sailor murmured. “An old hermit living in a cave near the western cliffs. Word is he’s on his deathbed and has only three days left to live.”

The Prince’s ears perked up. The happiest man in Atlantis? he thought. This was a title that even he, with all his wealth, could not claim. Intrigued and desperate, the Prince interrupted the sailors. “I must meet this man before he dies,” he insisted.

The sailors eyed the stranger’s rough attire and shrugged. “You can try,” one of them replied. “But it’s a long journey. The hermit lives far from here, in a cave by the sea cliffs to the west. He was once a great king, they say, but he renounced his throne and riches years ago.”

“What do I have to lose?” the Prince muttered to himself. Staying would only mean another day of elegant misery at the palace—seeking out this hermit was at least a chance at real happiness. Without further hesitation, he thanked the sailors and set off toward the cliffs, guided by the light of the moon and his yearning for something more than empty luxury.

By sunrise, he arrived at the mouth of a rocky cave perched high on the cliffs overlooking the sea. Inside, he found a frail old man sitting peacefully by a small fire. Summoning his courage, the Prince stepped forward and asked, “Are you the one they call the happiest man in Atlantis?”

The old man looked up with a gentle smile. “Names are curious things,” he chuckled. “I have never claimed such a title, but somehow it found me. Tell me, young man, what is it you seek?”

“I seek happiness,” the Prince confessed. “I have everything a man is supposed to want, yet my heart is empty. All the riches in the world have not brought me joy.”

The hermit nodded knowingly. “Ah, yes. You seek that which cannot be bought,” he said softly. “Yet it is freely available to all. I can show you the way, if you are willing to learn.”

The Prince eagerly agreed. The hermit picked up a charred stick from the fire and drew a simple triangle on the stone wall of the cave. “Everything you need to know is contained in this triangle,” he said, tapping the three points of the shape.

The Prince stared at the drawn triangle, confused but intrigued. “What do the three points represent?” he asked.

The old man’s eyes twinkled. “Come back tomorrow at dawn,” he replied. “Your lessons will begin then.”

“Why not teach me now?” the Prince protested, eager for answers.

The hermit wagged his finger and shook his head. “Patience, young man. What kind of teacher would I be if I handed out the secrets so easily? Some lessons must be earned and experienced, not simply given. Return in the morning.”

Reluctantly, the Prince agreed and took shelter for the night nearby, his heart brimming with anticipation for the wisdom the dawn would bring.

True to his word, the Prince returned to the cave at first light. “I’m ready to learn,” he told the old man. “Please, tell me how to be happy.”

The hermit nodded and placed a single gold coin into the Prince’s hand. “Today, I have a simple task for you,” he said. “Walk down to the marketplace in the village. There is a shop at the very top of the market that sells fine antiques. Find the most exquisite golden cup they have and purchase it using nothing more than this one coin.”

The Prince blinked in surprise. He knew of the cup the hermit spoke of — a legendary goblet worth a king’s ransom. “One coin will not be nearly enough for such a cup,” he said, perplexed.

“Go and try,” the old man replied, ushering the Prince on his way.

Skeptical but obedient, the Prince journeyed down to the market in his shabby disguise. He found the renowned antique shop and, inside, upon a silk-lined shelf, he spotted the gleaming golden cup the hermit had described. Carefully, he picked up the heavy goblet and brought it to the shopkeeper’s counter.

“I would like to buy this,” the Prince said, placing the single coin on the counter.

The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow and let out a harsh laugh. “One coin? Are you playing a joke on me?” he scoffed. “That cup is worth thousands of gold coins. Get out of here if you’re not serious!”

Before the Prince could utter another word, the merchant shooed him out of the shop, grumbling about fools and their pranks. Embarrassed and angry, the Prince clutched his lone coin and trudged back to the cave empty-handed.

When the Prince returned, he was fuming with frustration. “That was impossible!” he stormed at the hermit. “Were you just trying to humiliate me? No one would trade such a priceless treasure for a mere coin.”

The old man remained unfazed by the outburst. “Tell me,” he said quietly, “how valuable is your own happiness?”

Taken aback, the Prince hesitated. “My happiness? It’s… priceless. Worth more than all the gold in my vault,” he answered.

The hermit nodded. “And yet, you give it away so cheaply.” He fixed the Prince with a knowing gaze and continued, “Think about it. A servant spills a bit of wine at dinner, and you surrender your happiness in exchange for anger. A rival gains a slight advantage over you, and you let jealousy steal your joy. A storm delays your ship, and you hand over your peace, trading it for anxiety and frustration. Tell me, are a spilled cup, someone else’s success, or a bit of rain truly worth the price of your happiness?”

The Prince opened his mouth to retort, but found he had no answer. He realized the old man was right.

“Day after day, you’ve been trading away something precious for things trivial and fleeting,” the hermit said, shaking his head. “You’ve been bartering your happiness to the lowest bidder over the smallest inconveniences.”

Slowly, the Prince’s anger melted into understanding as the lesson sank in. The hermit turned back to the triangle on the wall and inscribed a single word at one of its points: “FOCUS.”

“Today you learned the importance of focus,” said the old man. “At any given moment, life presents us with countless things to notice — some important, many not. You must choose what to focus on. If you devote your attention to every minor inconvenience, you will constantly give away your happiness. But if you focus only on what truly matters, on what is precious, the little troubles won’t steal your joy.”

As the hermit spoke, the Prince noticed an inscription etched into the gold coin still clutched in his hand. He held it up to the light and read the tiny words engraved there: “Never trade what is precious for what is trivial.” The Prince closed his fingers around the coin, realizing the wise man had given him more than a coin — he had given him a motto to live by.

The Prince nodded gratefully. He now understood that his happiness was a treasure to guard, not a trinket to toss away at the slightest provocation.

“Return tomorrow at dawn for the second lesson,” the hermit said, breaking the Prince’s reverie. The Prince thanked the old man for his wisdom and left the cave, the coin tucked safely in his pocket. That evening, as he rested, his mind was already calmer than it had been in years.

Part 2

At sunrise the next day, the Prince arrived at the cave eager for the second lesson. He found the old hermit waiting with a pair of large clay bowls set on the ground, each filled to the brim with water.

Without a word, the hermit picked up a bucket of small stones. Over the first bowl, he suddenly dumped a handful of rocks all at once. The stones plunged in, and the water splashed and sloshed violently over the bowl’s rim. Then, over the second bowl, the hermit placed an equal number of similar rocks one by one, gently. Each stone sank to the bottom, and though a few ripples spread across the water’s surface, it soon returned to perfect calm. Hardly a drop was spilled from the second bowl.

The Prince watched this demonstration intently. Finally, the hermit spoke. “Did you notice the difference?” he asked.

“Yes,” the Prince replied. “The first bowl was upset by every stone — it splashed and spilled everywhere. But the second bowl remained mostly undisturbed, even though the same number of stones went in.”

The old man smiled. “Good. Now, for today’s task, I want you to go into the marketplace again. For the first hour of the morning, behave like the first bowl — let every little pebble of life cause a splash. Exaggerate your reactions to whatever happens around you.” He paused, then continued, “But when the noontime bell rings, switch. For the next hour, move through the market like the second bowl. No matter what stones drop in your path, remain steady and calm. Do you understand?”

The Prince nodded, though inwardly he felt a bit unsure what this exercise would reveal. Nonetheless, he obeyed. He walked down to the bustling marketplace as instructed, ready to carry out this peculiar experiment.

All morning long, the Prince reacted to every minor incident with gusto, just as the first bowl had. If someone accidentally brushed against him in the crowded street, he spun around and shoved the offender back with an angry scowl. When a fruit vendor shortchanged him a few coins, the Prince loudly accused the man of swindling and made a scene. If a stray dog snapped at him, he shouted and kicked dust at it. By the time the lunch bell finally rang, the Prince’s heart was pounding and his nerves were frayed. The slightest inconvenience had set him off; it felt as though the whole world was against him that morning.

As the bell tolled noon, the Prince took a deep breath and remembered the hermit’s instructions. Now he consciously changed his demeanor, resolving to react like the second bowl. Soon enough, challenges came at him once again — as they always do in life — but this time he met them with composure.

A young boy running through the crowd accidentally stepped on the Prince’s foot, leaving a muddy footprint on his boot. The boy looked up in fear, expecting an outburst. Instead, the Prince simply helped the child steady himself and brushed the mud off his own boot with a shrug. “Be careful next time, little one,” he said kindly, and even handed the boy a sweet fig from a fruit stand to show he bore no ill will. The boy gave a gap-toothed smile of surprise and gratitude before scurrying away.

Moments later, a merchant’s apprentice rushing by with a tray of tea collided with the Prince, splashing warm tea on his sleeve. The apprentice began stammering an apology, bracing for the wrath of this tall stranger. But the Prince merely laughed softly, wringing out the fabric. “No harm done,” he said calmly. He even flipped the startled apprentice a coin to pay for the spilled tea, then carried on his way with a courteous nod.

That afternoon, dark clouds gathered and a sudden rain shower drenched the marketplace. Shoppers and merchants alike groaned and ran for cover. The old Prince—the one he had been just yesterday—would have cursed the weather. But now, he simply pulled his cloak over his head and found shelter under a shop awning, watching the rain fall. He quietly observed the raindrops pattering into the dirt and forming little puddles, each ripple fading gently away. Instead of frustration, the Prince felt a small, unexpected peace at that moment. It was as if he were seeing the rain for the simple wonder that it was, rather than as an enemy of his plans.

When the appointed hours were over, the Prince returned to the cave, soaked but thoughtful. The hermit greeted him eagerly. “Welcome back,” the old man said. “Now, tell me: what did you learn today?”

The Prince ran a hand through his damp hair and collected his thoughts. “This morning, when I let every little thing bother me, it felt like the entire world was vexing me. Everything and everyone seemed determined to upset me,” he reported. “But by the afternoon, I realized that the world hadn’t changed at all — only I had changed. The same kinds of things happened to me both morning and afternoon. The difference was that when I stayed calm, those events no longer had power over me. They were just events — not good or bad until I decided to label them so.”

A broad grin spread across the hermit’s face. “Exactly,” he said. “This is the second key. You learned to calm the waters of your mind — to become like the second bowl. In life, you cannot stop the pebbles from falling: people will bump into you, storms will come, plans will go awry. But you can control the state of your mind, just as the water in the bowl could remain still. The calm bowl still felt every stone drop, but it did not let each small pebble create a lasting disturbance. It absorbed the impacts and quickly returned to peace. That is the difference between reacting and responding.”

He turned to the triangle on the wall and wrote the second word at the next point: “STATE.” “If you can master your state of mind,” he continued, “you can enter any situation on your own terms. Think of it: if you walk into a challenge full of optimism, patience, and confidence, you will handle it far differently than if you walk in stressed, angry, or afraid. The circumstances might be the same, but your mindset will shape your experience. Your decisions — and ultimately your destiny — will be profoundly affected by the attitude you carry. So choose your state of mind instead of letting the world choose it for you. Control your state, and you will control your life.”

The Prince absorbed this wisdom gratefully. In two days, this humble hermit had already begun to transform his understanding of himself. As he turned to depart, the old man added, “Tomorrow, come back at dawn for your final lesson — the greatest and most difficult one. And bring with you one thousand gold coins from your treasury.”

The Prince’s eyes widened at this strange request, but he simply nodded. After all he had seen, he trusted that the hermit had his reasons. That night, the Prince returned to his palace in secret and filled a leather sack with gold. His mind buzzed with curiosity and a touch of nervousness about what the third challenge would demand.

Part 3

On the third morning, the Prince struggled up the cliffside path to the cave once more, this time bearing the heavy leather sack brimming with one thousand gold coins. He dropped the sack on the cave floor with a muffled clank of metal and caught his breath. “I’ve brought what you asked for,” he told the hermit, still unsure what to expect.

In spite of himself, the Prince felt a stab of suspicion. He had endured hardships and followed the old man’s instructions faithfully — and now he had lugged a king’s ransom up a mountain. Was this all just a trick to take my gold? he wondered. Eyeing the hermit warily, he added in a half-joking tone, “So, you really are one of those gurus after all — teaching enlightenment in exchange for a bag of gold?”

The old man chuckled and shook his head. “You’ve done well to bring the coins,” he said. “And indeed, for your final task, I will ask you to make a trade.”

With that, the hermit reached into a nook in the cave wall and pulled out a small object, then presented it to the Prince on his open palm. It was a simple gray stone, about the size of a plum. It looked utterly ordinary, plain and smooth, like any pebble one might pick up on a riverbank.

“I will exchange this stone for your thousand gold coins,” the hermit said calmly.

The Prince stared at the old man, waiting for some sign that this was a joke. But the hermit’s expression was earnest. “A stone?” the Prince blurted in disbelief. “Surely you jest. This pebble isn’t worth a single copper coin, let alone a thousand pieces of gold!”

The hermit’s eyes glinted. Instead of answering directly, he spoke in a low, gentle voice. “Ah, but this is no ordinary stone. Your father gave me this stone many years ago.”

The Prince’s heart skipped a beat. “My father?” he exclaimed. “You knew my father, the King?”

“I did,” the old man replied. “Long ago, when you were still a young boy, your father came to me here in this cave, seeking guidance. Before he left, he pressed this very stone into my hand. He told me, ‘One day, if my son ever comes here looking for answers, please give him this.’ Your father entrusted it to me as a gift for you.” The hermit paused, a sorrowful smile on his lips. “He hoped, of course, that you would never need to seek me out… but he wanted to be prepared, just in case.”

The Prince felt a lump form in his throat. He reached out and gingerly picked up the pebble from the hermit’s hand. In his eyes it was no longer an ordinary rock at all — it was a relic of his late father’s love and wisdom. His father had died while he was still very young, leaving the Prince a kingdom but not much guidance on how to live. Now, after all these years, here lay a final gift from the man he barely got to know. To anyone else, the stone would appear worthless, but to the Prince it had just become precious beyond measure.

He looked up at the hermit with tears beginning to rim his eyes. Without a word, the Prince pushed the bulging sack of gold across the floor toward the old man. “I will gladly trade all of this for that stone,” he said, his voice catching. In that moment, no price was too high for this last connection to his father.

The hermit regarded the Prince kindly and closed the young man’s fingers around the gray stone. Then he gently slid the heavy sack of gold back toward the Prince. “Keep your gold,” the old man said softly. “I have no need for it… and in truth, there was never any real trade to be made.”

The Prince looked at him in confusion, the precious stone clutched tightly in his hand. The hermit stepped over to the triangle drawn on the cave wall and wrote the final word at the third point: “STORY.”

“You have just learned your third lesson,” the hermit explained, turning to face the Prince once again. “I told you a story about this rock, and in an instant the way you valued it changed completely. A moment ago, it was just a pebble to you. But when you heard it was your father’s keepsake, it became priceless. The stone itself did not change at all — only the story you believed about it changed, and that made all the difference.”

The Prince listened in wonder, gazing down at the stone in his hand. The old man went on, his voice passionate despite his frail frame. “This is the power of the stories we tell ourselves,” he said. “A story can make a stone precious or make it worthless. A story can turn a punishment into a privilege, a disaster into a triumph. Our lives are full of events and circumstances that have no inherent meaning. It is we who assign meaning to them. We decide, through the stories we weave in our minds, whether an event will be a curse or a blessing, a burden or a gift. In the end, the meaning of anything in your life is the story you choose to tell about it.”

As the hermit spoke, the Prince felt as if another veil were lifting, revealing a profound truth he had never grasped before. He recalled how he had labeled the rain a nuisance yesterday, until he chose to see it differently. He thought of how the spilled wine or a rival’s success had meant “ruin” to him, until he realized he could simply ignore those provocations. Meaning was not in the events themselves, but in his own interpretation. It was a power he had possessed all along without knowing it.

The old man gently placed a hand on the Prince’s shoulder and guided his gaze to the triangle on the wall, now complete with three words: Focus, State, and Story. “These are the three lessons I had to share with you,” the hermit said. “Your focus determines what you perceive in life. Your state of mind determines how you experience it. And your story determines what meaning you draw from it. Master your focus, your state, and your story,” he added with a smile, “and you will have mastered the art of living happily.”

The Prince bowed deeply to the wise hermit. His heart brimmed with gratitude and awe. In just three days, he had gained more wisdom than in all his years surrounded by luxury. He understood now that happiness had never been something to acquire—it was a skill to be learned, a choice to be made from within.

As the Prince prepared to depart, the old man settled back against the cave wall, looking very tired but very much at peace. With a faint, knowing smile, the hermit called out one last time, “You came to find the happiest man in Atlantis. Tell me, did you find him?”

The Prince paused at the mouth of the cave and turned back, a radiant light in his eyes. A smile spread across his face — perhaps the first genuine smile of joy the Prince had ever known. He replied, “No… I did not find him. I became him.“