Littlest Fish in the Sea

I went fishing this weekend, and it changed my life.

When I was a kid, my dad literally fished the love for fishing out of me.  We'd spend 9 hours of hot summer days in a boat with no sun cover, in a lake with no fish (seemingly).  We'd agonize over the "catchless" day  until my dad would finally reel in the lines and agree to get out the skis.  Water skiing was much more my idea.  I could do that for 9 hours any day!

And so, on these long days in the boat, the stage was set for my responses to my father's unending invitations to go fishing over the years:  "No thanks Dad.  But we could do something else!"

As my years have begun to go by, and as I move fully into my vocation, my own family, and my own household, I see my world around me constantly building speed and intensity.  I once believed the faster and more intense, the better.  But more recently, the idea of sitting in one place with little to do or watch, accomplish, or overcome sounds more inviting than ever.  Somewhere along this realization, the idea of fishing came into my mind.  To spend a day fishing, sitting by the water, rubbing worm guts on my jeans, hoping for hours to feel a tug on the line and sharing lazy conversations with my dad began to sound more like a dream come true.

To my dad's surprise, one day mid-summer of this year, I called him up and said that we needed to schedule a fishing trip.  "Really??" he asked.  "What do you want to do?"  I told him my dream.  Although still a little confused, my dad quickly started making plans.

It took a while to make the day happen, but finally we went fishing.  It's late in the season to be fishing, and without a boat, we were told not to get our hopes too high.  We were the only fishermen on Branched Oak for most of this last Friday.  It was windy and a little cold.  But my dad and I were kings of the world for a day!  AND we caught tons of fish!!  Some of them (most of them) were bait-sized, but most all of them, especially the bigger ones, put up good fights.

It was a beautiful day.  We talked, laughed, got lures stuck on invisible, underwater debris, forgot to eat lunch, and got worm guts all over our jeans.  It was perfect, and it offset the trajectory of my life just enough.

Sometimes it's the littlest fish that matters the most--even if that little fish is a day at a windy lake catching throw-backs with your dad.

My recommendation--take some time to do the things you would otherwise look back and regret not doing.

More to come!


Jason <><