The fresh air of early morning, the one that gets straight to your head and overwhelms you with each breath that makes you feel more human, the chill on your hands and the coolness that grasps your face, you sense it, inside out, all over, it flows in you. Your hindsight and the lightness of the morning, that unique transcendent ray of Sun, the moments when the day is neither white nor yellow but a surreal combination of the two. You feel the peace and wonder why where you ever so weak, why did you let your colleagues distract you, why did you allow your job to affect your mental strength and as you ponder over these questions that seem so trivial now you find it all so simple, at ease, you understand that you are whole again, one with the nature as it always was.
Your gear at the back of the truck, your skill within you, you start your journey not to catch fish but to catch peace, to catch yourself living in the moment, being present and being larger than what we got used to call life.
You park the truck and carry your rods and nets proudly, as the man coming back home, as the man of the wilderness. You feel it in your bones, that you can do this, one step at the time you find yourself rushing to the river, to the lake or the pond. Up the mountain, you feel the inner voice saying to hurry up and you feel nature welcoming you back. You feel that this is where you should be and there is no one else but you and the serenity. There is no such thing that could ever break that most intimate relationship a fisherman has with the nature as they never existed one without the other or parted.
You feel strong yet humble, excited but calm, adventurous but patient and with a grin on your face you realize that Mother nature made the perfect balance long time ago. Your first cast after you settle and you think you are getting better with eachthrow and that’s when it gets to your stomach – the hope – the expectation – the unforeseeable outcome, whether the fish will bite today or not.
You dip your hands in the water slowly and cautiously, worrying not to scare the fish. You’d be the happiest just to jump in and yell from the bottom of your lungs how good it feels to be here, how your little city break is in fact your great escape. But you wait in silence, it’s not about extravaganza. It is about a fisherman, about the river, about the trees, the soil and the harmony of life.
So who am I, a fisherman, a hiker, an outdoor lover, an outcast or the wanderer? I’d say you’d find a little bit of all, not just in me, but in each and every one of us just by scratching under the surface.
So, my friend, my companion, pack up your bags and learn from nature, adopt its pace and you will acquire the wisdom knowing that there are days when the fish will bite and then there are days when the waters are still. Sometimes you will be larger than life and sometimes life will show you just how tiny we are in the Universe. But never forget the freedom, the joy, the spur of a moment, honor your calmness by remembering the storms and celebrate victories with the patience of a monk.
And remember to spend time outside; “take a walk in the woods and come out taller than the trees.”