The Tale of Two Lumberjacks (A Lifelong Lesson)

The Tale of Two Lumberjacks

Have you ever wondered why some people seem to make progress effortlessly while others work twice as hard and barely move forward? 

It’s easy to assume success comes from grinding harder, pushing longer, or simply “wanting it more.”

But sometimes… the real advantage isn’t effort. 

It’s your approach.

Well, let me tell you a story about two lumberjacks, a story that holds a simple yet powerful lifelong lesson that will change how you approach your goals and life. 

The Two Lumberjacks

There’s an old tale from a small snowy village in Finland, surrounded by thick green pine forests and mountains that stayed white for most of the year.

In that village lived two lumberjacks: 

Elias and Mikko.

Both men were strong, hardworking, and respected.

And, every morning, before the pale winter sun rose, both walked into the forest together with their axes resting over their shoulders and the cold air turning their breath into smoke.

They worked side by side, chopping wood to keep the village warm through the long, frozen months.

That year, winter was harsh, colder than the village had seen in years.

The snow fell early, deeper, and heavier, and the demand for firewood grew urgent.

During the first few weeks of the season, Elias and Mikko worked side by side as they always had.

Same early mornings.

Same steady rhythm.

Same neatly stacked piles of wood growing beside them, almost identical in size.

But then, something strange happened.

Even though Elias and Mikko started at the exact same time each morning…and finished at the exact same time each evening…Elias began stacking noticeably more wood.

But that wasn’t the confusing part.

The confusing part was this:

Every day, right after midday, Elias would pause. He would pull his heavy axe from the stump, brush the snow and wood chips off the blade, rest it on his shoulder, and quietly walk down the narrow path back toward the village. 

And, he would disappear for an entire hour. 

Meanwhile, Mikko worked straight through, never stopping, never slowing, chopping until his muscles ached and his hands burned.

After a full hour, Elias would return and continue chopping wood as if nothing had happened. As if he had never left.

And, somehow, by the time the sun began to set, Elias had always chopped a lot more wood than Mikko.

Every night, as they headed back home, Elias’ pile was not just taller, it was also cleaner and neater. 

At first, Mikko tried to ignore it.

“Perhaps Elias is stronger,” he thought. 

“Perhaps he is more experienced.” 

But something still didn’t make sense. 

Elias disappeared for a full hour every single day, like clockwork, and yet, every day, he chopped more wood than Mikko.

Sure, he might have been a little stronger or swung his axe with a bit more force, but Mikko was just as experienced. And anyway, that didn’t explain the missing hour. 

As the days passed, frustration grew into curiosity… and curiosity grew into irritation.

Finally, after nearly a month, Mikko couldn’t figure it out. 

One evening, as Elias returned from his quiet midday disappearance, Mikko stopped chopping, leaving his axe mid a piece of wood, and said:

“Elias… I have to ask. How is it possible that you take an hour off every day, yet somehow chop more wood than I do? Where do you go? What do you do?”

Elias looked at him calmly, almost kindly.

He smiled, the kind of small smile someone gives when they understand something you don’t… but they used to struggle too.

And he answered:

“I go home, Mikko.”

Mikko frowned and shook his head, still confused. 

“Home? But why? How does that help you chop more wood?”

Elias lifted his axe high above his head and, with the familiar movement they both knew by heart, sliced through a log with ease, almost like cutting through butter. 

He left his blade resting in the wooden stump, then glanced over at Mikko’s axe, still buried halfway into the log he’d been struggling with.

“I go home to sharpen my axe,” Elias said. 

And then, without another word, he returned to chopping.

From that day forward, Mikko too stopped working straight through and began walking home with Elias each afternoon to sharpen his axe. 

And as the winter carried on, their stacks grew faster, their work felt lighter, and by the time the coldest part of the season arrived, they had more than enough firewood to keep the entire village warm.

The Lesson

So, what can we take away from this?

Well, many people go through life swinging a dull axe.

They push harder when they’re tired.

They force effort when they’re unmotivated.

They treat rest like weakness.

They grind and wear themselves out. 

And they neglect the very thing that will, in the end, make it all possible (in this case, an axe). 

See, progress doesn’t always have to come from working harder. 

Success doesn’t always come from pushing through, with sheer force and persistence. 

Sometimes it comes from pausing long enough to get better.

It comes from learning, improving, resting, reflecting, practicing, improving strategy, taking care of your body and mind, and sometimes resetting and taking a step back long enough to see things clearly before you jump back in. 

The world glorifies hustle, and yes, effort matters.

But effort without alignment, without clarity, without a clear path, can lead to burnout and exhaustion… not growth.

There is power in stopping.

There is wisdom in slowing down.

And there is strength in sharpening yourself before you swing again.

Because here’s the truth:

A sharp axe with steady effort will always outperform a dull axe with endless force.

So take a moment, step back, and sharpen yours.

Your progress will show the difference.

Love,