A lot happens in a lifetime and you never know for sure how it’s gonna turn out. It’s a mystery and an adventure. There’s living and dying and all sorts of drama in-between. I’ve been on this fishing trip forever. Ha, I meant to say, I’ve been alive forever. Maybe I’ve been alive too long. I’m sunburned and melting in this heat. I’m hungry, thirsty and just plain tired. I’d lay myself down right now if it wasn’t so dang hot in this boat. I’d like to jump in the lake and cool off but I’d wet the truck seat on the way home and I’m too tired to be wearing soggy pants. What the heck am I talking about?
When the morning sun cuts through the trees and your windshield, it strikes your eyes and makes them try to close again but you can’t let that happen so you force them open and look down at the shadows on the road. Then you steal a glance through the trees and the safety chains on the boat trailer jangle as your tires bounce out of a pothole. You check the rear view image of your bass boat, the one that you’ve owned for a thousand fishing trips, at least and you wonder what you’d ever do without it. You pick up your coffee cup and sip while the day takes shape in front of you and you know for sure that you are exactly where you should be. That’s when the magic happens, that’s when your tail catches the breeze and suddenly you’re light as a feather. It’s that moment that I find myself searching for, anticipating. It’s a moment of astonishment and you’re left, after your flight, in awe and you’re dumbstruck by the experience.
On a bad day, it’s as good as it gets and on a good day it’s just a hint of what’s to come.
That moment of wonder reminds me of rolling in the grass with a puppy when I was a child. I’m a child still and I try my best to return to that wonderland when I can. Sometimes wonderland is hard to find because full grown men have bills to pay and families and jobs to worry about. The boat needs a battery and the truck needs tires, my back hurts from yesterday’s job and for some reason I’m filled with despair. And just like that, it happens. One by one my worries are brushed aside by the passing pines, the cool morning air and the new light that shines between the trees. Slowly it starts to happen and then faster until the sun shines right through to the heart of me and the crisp morning air fills my chest completely and for a few moments I’m something else. I’m a soul without bonds or boundaries and I sail on my own wings of wonder, for a moment or two. When I come down I don’t come down completely. I’m still higher than I was and I spend the rest of the day trying to rise up again and sometimes I do but sometimes it’s all downhill from there. That’s the reason they call it fishing and not catching. You never know for sure what’s coming next. You push on and work and hope for a better time than you deserve. I always hope for more than I deserve and sometimes it comes.
If you’re fishing alone, it’s good but if you’re with a trusted friend it’s all better. Life’s also like that. A good friend is a great gift and I’ve been blessed with many. Some were brothers or in-laws, uncles, cousins, nieces or nephews. I even had a sister who never rode in my boat, poor girl. My Grandfather started me out on this fishing journey. He resides now past the mountain peaks of this world and of my mind. He fishes with me when I’m alone and therefore, I’m never alone. It’s funny when I think about it. He’s my dearest friend even though he died around forty years ago. Now I remember fishing with him by reading the pages of my past. I brush off my memory dust and flip the printed pages of my mind’s book and he’s always there. He’s always smiling. He teaches me what he can and entertains me with silly jokes. He was the first dear friend I lost and I hang on to him by reading my own mind. He’s there and I’m there beside him in his old aluminum boat and Grandmother is at home and she’s preparing a meal for us. It’s better than I deserve but my Grandfather deserves it and he’ll share it with me. He always loves sharing her cooking.
Nowadays I fish mostly in my own mind. I don’t know if I’d do an honest to goodness fishing trip justice. The good fishing days, mostly they happened years ago and that’s good enough for me. I’d rather not do it at all than to do it badly. I learned what I could from Grandfather and I’ve kept learning on every trip since then. I know how it should be done because I saw it done by better fishermen than me and I joined in. I’d like to think I’ve passed some of that knowledge along to others. It’s no fun fishing with an idiot but an idiot is only an idiot until he learns how to fish. Then maybe he’s still an idiot but at least he’s smiling and there’s a fish on his line and I’m smiling also, in my memory. Then every once in a while an idiot will best me and laugh out loud and I’ll smirk and learn what I can from him.
My life has been a heck of a trip and occasionally I find myself rolling in the grass again, with that puppy. Sometimes my eyes are closed. Sometimes I’m fishing. Be quiet if I’m smiling. Leave me be. I’m somewhere you’ve probably never been. I’m learning how to fish or I’m teaching someone else. Watch for it. You might notice a glow when my chest fills to the brim with Sunshine. Maybe it’s love I’m brimming with.
