The Fisher King: Little To Do But Fish

I continue to be drawn to the story of The Fisher King.  I wonder what it is about this story of a wounded King that keeps pulling me in.  There are different versions of the story but usually the king is wounded in the legs or groin, and has difficulty moving on his own. When he is injured, his kingdom suffers.  The land becomes infertile, reduced to a barren wasteland.  Knights travel from many lands to heal the Fisher King, but only the chosen one can bring the needed healing.

Recently I got hooked by a little “fishy” detail found in this legend that that has left me pondering. While the king is lame, the story informs us that there is little left for him to do but fish in the river near his castle. I am not sure what to make of this detail. The wounded king can just fish the river all day?  No work? No responsibilities?  No visit to the doctor?  This sounds pretty good especially if there are big trout in the river.

Yet, even being an avid fly fisherman I somehow get the idea that this is not a good situation. Some thing is wrong here. It sounds a bit desperate with the wasteland all around. It sounds a bit aimless in that he is fishing because there is, “little left for him to do”.  I get the feeling that fishing under these circumstances and for this reason is not going to be fulfilling, rich and will not bring the healing he needs.

Fishing simply because there is little left to do does not sound intentional as in Thoreau’s proclamation, “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately”.  Nor does it sound as passionate as the flyfisher in Yates poem, “The Wandering Aengus”, “I went out to the Hazelwood because a fire was in my head”.  Most importantly it does not sound like the “abundant life” or the “living waters”  of which Jesus spoke.

I guess for me I don’t want to fish simply because there is little else to do. Hopefully there are better reasons to fish.

I also don’t want to fish in an attempt simply to find excitement. Although, I admit that through out my own life, I know it has been my natural tendency to put many things in a place where they should not be. I have made many failed attempts to find life where it is not. Such an approach is like trying to squeeze blood out of a turnip. It usually leaves me feeling lame and does not address my true need for healing.

I want to fish because I have life in me and fishing is a sort of a celebration of that life. I want to fish passionately and intentionally because I have at least begun to experience healing. Perhaps another way of saying this is that I don’t want to “use” fly fishing, or anything or anyone else to make life bearable.   

I choose to wait for the “chosen one” to continue to heal me even as I stand in the river casting and casting to rising forms. I cast and I wait, I wait and I cast. Some of those forms are fish. Others are only shadows. The fish dance while those that are phantoms simply fade away.