What an interesting meaningful time together. Men getting
together to fly fish and talk about the
deeper aspects of life and fly fishing.
After catching some nice rainbow trout, eating dinner, we
gathered around a warm fire to consider the question. What can be spiritual
about fly fishing?
I would call the discussion authentic and honest. Rather
than what I would call “lofty”. We spoke of things with humility and
uncertainty. We spoke of possibilities.
We spoke of the beautiful peaceful places that fly fishing
often brings us to. How do we respond to the beauty and mystery of creation?
We spoke of how the rhythm of casting and the intense focus
on the fly with the fish in pursuit can be experienced as a type of meditation.
We spoke of “connection”. The connection to something larger
than ourselves and yet when done with others, a deeper connection to one
another.
We spoke of being part of natural cycles. Insect hatches and
their cycles. The seasons of a river.
We spoke of water. Flowing water. Baptism. Repentance.
We spoke of “calling”. Can a man be called to wilderness? To
a river? To a lake?
We spoke of spiritual rites of passage and considered if fly
fishing could be a component.
We also spoke of the possibility that all our thoughts could
merely be wishful thinking. Nothing but projections mislead by emotion. We had to consider that maybe there is nothing spiritual about fly fishing. But in
doing so we are have to also consider the possibility that perhaps there is
something spiritual about all fly fishing and all of life for that matter.
My own conclusion: There is some thing.
Something happened at that little pond in northern New
Jersey where I made my first casts to large fish
below the surface. Often alone away from the mainstream. On an edge. Feeling
protected and enclosed by the hillsides covered with lush trees that surrounded
the small lake I fished.
Yet, lost in some sense. Perhaps found. And that is something.
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