Longings Deep Within: The Inner-Life

Gray skies over head, geese honking and heading somewhere all tug at some place deep within reminding me to pay attention to my inner life. Such "tugs" are more worthy of my attention than the fish that just took my fly, is pulling out line, and is heading south and certainly more important than all the advertising that bombards my senses during the holiday season. 

"The inner, what is it-if not intensified sky, hurled through with birds and deep with the winds of home coming."  (Rilke)

Turning-Within as Winter Approaches

"Ah, but the winters! The earth's mysterious turning-within." (Rilke)

It may not "officially" be winter but I prefer to pay attention to what I feel in my blood. Could we feel this storm coming?

"I can tell by the way the trees beat, after so many dull days, on my worried windowpanes that a storm is coming."

I secretly enjoy how a storm slows us down and perhaps, urges us to "turn-within."  It slows down city life and the racing, frantic culture in which  we find ourselves; perhaps, trapped. Some times when a storm comes, schools and work places have delays or even closures. As kids, do we remember the excitement of a snow day? Yippee! Time to get the sleds and play outside.  A break from the routine. As we dipped between the hills on our sleds, we slipped into another time and place, entering another world. I don't know how much that "other world" exists anymore for us, or our kids, but I still look for those "in-between" places.

As adults, it is more difficult to slow down, slip away, and find those "in-between" places.  Yet, when a storm comes,  we might remember  and feel in our blood, a slowing down, and a peculiar turning within.  We can almost sigh a moment of relief.  With the Earth, we mysteriously turn-within. We change our cadence, and for a few brief moments relax, allowing the storm to dominate our lives.

"If only we would let ourselves be dominated as things do by some immense storm, we would become strong too, and not need names." 

For most of us, the storm, no longer dominates our lives. Other things dominate. Our names (and what people expect from us), work, our schedules, making money, shopping, stresses of the holidays. How ironic that while the earth is "mysteriously turning within," and we might begin slowing down and turning within ourselves, we have the demands of the  holiday "season" (is it really a season?) heaped upon us.

I personally, would prefer to plunge in-between the hills and snowbanks. Let the snow from the storm be heaped upon me and my all too often frantic life. In that quiet place, I might, for a moment, slow and turn within, and remember another time and place.

Casting In-between Seasons: Fall/Winter Transition

I feel the shift inside me every late Fall. The shift is a restlessness as I try orient myself seasonally. When I fish this time of year I feel I am casting in-between two seasons. I am not sure where I belong. The geese over head are moving south. I am here; caught in-between.

The harsh cold wind and snow this morning intensifies my disorientation. The cold and snow reminds me that it is no longer summer. Perhaps it is no longer Fall. Yet, it is not quite winter.  It is a  season in-between and I am caught in-between.

I often feel "in-between." I am often in-between various groups of people. I am not at ease sitting in church among the religious nor am I at ease among those who claim there is no God.

At a deeper level, and in a more general sense, this time of year, I feel more spiritually sensitive to my "questionable" belonging. I feel more aware of being "Soaked in exile," uncertain of where I belong. Who are my people? Where is my place?

I recently reread Clarissa Pinkola Estes, "Women Who Run With Wolves," the section on "Belonging." I believe it is in chapter six. She talks about "The Ugly Duckling," wandering trying to find his place, family and his community. She goes on to describe this story as a "Root, spiritual story." Coming to terms with this story, is of vital importance in our spiritual, emotional and psychological growth. Estes says if we do not understand this story and come to terms with it, true growth is questionable. Understanding a root story is fundamental to our growth just as a basic cast is fundamental to developing our fly fishing techniques

The orphan archetype is powerful and this same archetype is a powerful theme of the Bible. We see God's people wandering the Earth as "aliens and strangers." We also see it in Jesus, but many Christians prefer to see Jesus differently. We tend to prefer the Jesus of the "Prosperity Gospel;" The Jesus that hands out blessing in the forms of cash and town-homes on golf courses. That Jesus is a fun and popular guy. 

Certainly an argument could be made that if a person is completely alienated in his/her world, then something is wrong or out of balance. I can accept that argument. There is at least some truth there.
However are we aware of how the world offers us so many consolations, pills and thrills, and clubs that can distract us from feeling any kind of legitimate spiritual alienation? Are we open to how we almost absolutely refuse to feel any form of alienation?  

Rather than blocking out and masking all kinds alienation we should ask ourselves a question: What does it mean if we never feel somewhat out of place in this world, if we never feel as though we are wanderers who can't quite fit in, if we never feel alienated in a world in which we are "constantly glimpsing God, and feeling our whole nature still soaked in exile?"

If that is the reality of the human spiritual condition. If it is true that we are the "Ugly Ducklings," of the world, wandering in search of our true place,  then perhaps we should be feeling at least some of that exile and feeling somewhat lost.

And then perhaps we should start paying some attention to the beautiful swans over head that might be calling to us.  

Deckers: Riding the Storm Out

Time and time again, when you plan to go fish and there is a storm coming; JUST GO!
Ride the storm out and you might be rewarded.

We had snow, wind and some pockets of clear skies: typical Colorado weather. We had cold hands and feet but we rode it out and caught some nice fish.

We were not missing a thing in the city. 


"I've been thinking lately of what I'm missing in the city,
and I'm not missing a thing." (REO Speedwagon)

Eleven Mile Canyon In-Between Storms

A blue sky,  mild November day in 11 Mile Canyon.

First Cast Fish at Deckers South Platte River

I do not know what it means when someone picks up a fly rod for the first time in their life, haphazardly flops the fly on the South Platte River and a fish takes the fly.  Such was the case this morning when my client who had never fly-fished, netted a fish on her very first cast. The cast was made, the fish was on and screaming down the river.  For those of us who regularly fish the South Platte River at Deckers, we know how stacked the odds are against this feat.

How do we understand such events? Are they explainable? Do they mean anything? Are such events worthy of our attention and consideration?  Or, do we just quickly resolve the issue by calling it “Beginners Luck?” Yet, if we are honest with ourselves, we know this cliché does not completely explain the phenomena? The religious might call it a blessing of God but this also does not settle the issue as I want to ask,  “Why a blessing of God today with this person and not tomorrow with another?”

Before we consider quickly responding to these questions, we need to look at the opposite of “good luck” and consider what we call “bad luck.” For every story of good fortune when it seems that some “blessing” falls out of the sky (or comes down the river), there are countless other stories of misfortune.  Perhaps we are at the same loss of words to explain both the fortunes and misfortunes that make up our lives.

A fly fisher catches 5 or 6 big fish in the morning. Another angler just across the way, also hooks 5 or 6 big fish but only to have the hook pull out just before netting? Why? Is this good luck for one and bad luck for another?  Are the “fish gods” with the one and not the other? 

In the big scheme of things, does any of this matter? Yet, we can think of more important life events that results in more profound outcomes in our lives.  Our explanations can be just as vague. And maybe we need to stay unresolved and without definite conclusions.

In the end, I do not know. Or, at the very least I am not sure. I do believe though that when something happens and gets our attention, even such as the catching of a fish on our first cast, we could consider the event and ponder its occurrence.  We may never figure out its meaning but we can “live in the question.”  I have also found that as we live in these questions, this is probably not the time to quote scripture;  those “one liners” we often use out of context, to support ones explanation and viewpoint. All too often this results in superficial resolution and neglects the person standing across the river who might be fish-less.  

We ask the questions that have no answers. As we ponder the questions, we might vaguely become aware of a story, a bigger story, and yet, in some small ways, is the story of our individual lives. We become aware of both the seemingly fortunate and unfortunate events of our lives and those around us; all connected in the mystery of our life with God.