Fishing is a funny thing. Many people talk about it as an escape. Something you do after work, or on the weekend, when time permits and you can get away. People do it by themselves, with a buddy, or even a crew. It is performed either on shore, on boat, or by waders.
When you are with a buddy, especially on a boat, much of the time is filled up with “remember that time” and “what are you fishing with?” But there is silence too.
And when you are fishing alone, it is pure silence, except for the oft used expletive and un-constructive feedback you give yourself on everything that goes wrong.
But in that silence, our brain fills the void with thoughts. After a long stretch of no bites and nary a nibble (I just liked the way that sounded), your brain drifts off to the future and the past.
Fishing buddies from college long passed, or what trip you are going to make happen with your daughter when you finally promise to make time. Your mind drifts. It reminds you of the thing you forgot at the office, or that you really need to get your dog into the vet for his annuals. Maybe you dream up a big investment scheme you could swear will beat the market. Your mind is adrift. Almost as if it floats down the bubbly riffle with your Parachute Adams, only to be snapped to the next thought via a roll cast.
Occasionally you look up, and soak in the surroundings. Sometimes out of frustration. Other times boredom. It brings you for a second, in to this moment. This is why I come out here. So effing beautiful. This is why I am here.
But then you get back to it. The onward pursuit of the perfect cast, hitting your exact spot and the most delicious riffle. And again we drift.
But as with any meditation there aren’t many ways to snap you back in to the present, than a gong or bell reminding you why you are here. As you drift in the riffle of life, the only thing able to snap you purely into the moment is a strike. The harder the better.
Instinct kicks in, your monkey fish brain vanishes, and you are in the moment. Nothing else matters other than getting your $3.00 Parachute Adams safely home with a fish attached. In that moment you are truly present.
That is where we are meant to be. Go make life your fish.
