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.
oooooohhhhh...i like that you can share that time at the end of the day, that's really sweet. :) okay this line made me laugh: Gadgets grow off of us like prosthetics. funny and true. i myself noticed it's good to go within and honor the stillness (it helps me access the writing and art). it's like i have three modes: make money, clear out/declutter and spiritual time (meditate, nature, returning to more of who i am). thanks for the sweet post.
ReplyDeleteGreat post!
ReplyDeleteEvery morning around 4:30 Shelli and I do this on the futon in the backyard over a couple cups of good bean. The silence is breath taking!
ReplyDeleteYou aren't opposed to fishing???!?!?
ReplyDeleteOk, let's say it's a beautiful warm summer day. You are leisurly strolling along the beach, minding your own business, enjoying the simple pleasure of being alive. Suddenly you see and smell a fresh chocolate eclair. There it is sitting on a napkin and calling your name.
You reach down and lovingly pick it up, glancing around to see if anyone is watching.
You bite into it...ahhh, it's fresh and perfect, it makes your taste buds quiver in satisfaction BUT ALL OF A SUDDEN a sharp hook is punctured through your cheek and you are dragged kicking and screaming into the ocean while blood pours out of your cheek. You now can't breathe and are slowly drowning while it feels as if your lungs might explode.
At some point you may be tossed back up on shore, ripped open, bleeding and choking, to go back to your once peaceful day at the beach. If you live, you will most likely get a severe infection in your cheek and die anyway. If you are lucky, you will just drown and end the terror while in the water and being pulled along by your invisiable attacker. Either way, your life as you knew it is over.
End of story.
*wink* Just feeling sassy and thought I'd try to imagine "fishing" from the point of view of the fish.
Sorry, Dana... I'm a carnivore. But you knew that, my sassy friend! And if I wink out of this world eating an eclair, it's a good death! ;-p
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