Fishing for Words

I love fishing. Well, I use to love fishing. I loved watching fishing shows, competitions, whatever I could. I 208625_1006683625554_2761212_n[1]use to love being on the water, early in the morning, sun just coming up over the crest of the earth bringing to live all the rays touch. The gentle lap of the water against the hull of the boat. Positioning everything for that first cast..

A Great movie all should see, A River Runs Through It. In it Norman McLean says, “in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise”.

Sometimes writing is like fishing, you have to leave your line in the water long enough to catch something. Also, the more you do it, the better you get. For me, I have not had my line in the water in a long time. I have forgotten how to cast upon the water. I have lost my positioning. The rhythm is off,  and my technique  rusty at best. So, this is me rising early once again, feeling the morning gradually awaking from the night. My boat is now my chair, my pole is the computer that sits in my lap, I will now attempt once again to catch my passion for words. Not just any words, but words so strung together that thought and poetry give way to meaning and cohesiveness. May my words form character and body, constructing the emotion and feelings of  this moment in time.
197449_1006683665555_4733849_n[2]The water is calm this morning; the wind is yet somewhat turbulent. The clouds loom, not allowing the morning rays to cast it’s light. Yet, the fish, words, are stirring. Maybe something will bite.

I don’t fish, write, for a living. (A dream it would be for sure.) I do it because it makes me feel alive. I do it for the peace it gives. The click of the keys, the flow of the words like the current of the lake, each click lapping the hull of the boat. A rhythm sets in. A pattern.. I’m not looking to catch a lot, just one good one. One story. One thought
Many casts with many stokes of the keys, getting fewer and fewer nibbles. All it takes is that one. It’s not like I am going to keep it. I will just let it go. But in catching that thought, bringing it in, and releasing it, I feel a sense of accomplishment. Conquering? Maybe.. Understanding? More likely. Of myself.. and hopefully to those around me. I write because I feel the words. I cast my words out and draw them back in a rhythmic pattern, slowly at times and then fast at others.. At times I just let them free fall, “in hope that a fish will rise,” a thought will be captured, a truth be told, and understanding gained.

The Scriptures tell us to “Cast your bread upon the water, and it will return upon every wave.” So this is 200053_1006683705556_7455236_n[1]me.. I am pulling away from the shore once more. I am going to my favorite spot. I am grabbing the best, or what I deem appropriate for the moment.

It has been a long time since I have fished. It has been a while since I have had to position myself.  I will find the rhythm again… The thoughts are there, pooled under the cliff. I lift my rod and I cast..
I write..