Wednesday, August 18, 2010
I appreciate fishing though, and for more than "let's put something yummy on the table tonight." It's the concept that I love. I love the graceful dance of the old men down at the river throwing in a line. I love the stillness of the wait. I love the sights and sounds of nature doing its work. I love that it brings diverse backgrounds together.
Stillness. Any good fisher will tell you that it's about stillness. You don't go to the water with a blaring radio and a lot of chattering friends. No, you go to be quiet, to be still, to acknowledge that you're part of something bigger than you.
We've forgotten how to be still. It got lost in the industrial revolution. Everything sped up, machines whir. We're mired in sound clutter. There's a constant surge of information. Gadgets grow off of us like prosthetics. Gone are the days when dark meant lighting a candle, when entertainment meant telling a good story, or playing an instrument or singing, when relaxing was a day in the shade allowing the line to drift. We've forgotten how to simply breathe in the quiet of a moment.
Steve and I have a nightly ritual. Before we head to bed we sit out on the deck and watch the stars, or clouds, or whatever is out there. We're typically quiet, just listening to the night sounds the world makes, occasionally remarking a satellite sailing by. Last night was no different, save for Steve letting out a contented sigh and saying softly, "I really love sitting out here with you at the end of the day. It's my favorite time."
Stillness. Get some. Oh, and so we're clear... simply doing nothing does not mean you're being still.
Posted by Barb Black at 5:41:00 AM