It's the Little Things

This has been a stressful week for all of us.  Hurricanes, earthquakes, wildfires, insane decisions by governments (e.g. DACA).  You can’t turn on the TV or your computer without some new breaking news that causes all of us internal chaos and helplessness with absolutely no ability to do anything about it (at least in the moment).  It’s these times when I feel my breath start to quicken and my blood pressure rise, that I know I need to do something nice for myself.  Something that will be soothing and where I can have some level of control and that brings me peace and joy.  It might be yoga, painting, or happily heading out with my camera somewhere to see what photo opportunity might spontaneously appear that will be that magic photograph that all photographers yearn for.  This night was one of those times.  I had just returned from a quick trip to Nashville and I had loads of work to do.  I was overwhelmed, tired and cranky and I needed a break.  As I was considering my options, I got a phone call from my son-in-law, Elliott, inviting me to join him, my son Nick, and my grandson, Win, at the park to practice fly fishing.  It was exactly what I needed and I jumped in the car without hesitation.

I’ve always wanted to learn how to fly fish.  Elliott and Nick had both recently taken it up and now I had an invitation and an avenue to give it a try.  It was a beautiful and colorful late summer sunset.  There had been wildfires blazing through the western United States and our skies had been smoky for days, but they were a little clearer this night.  I found them at the lake’s edge with their rods while Win ran around shrieking and laughing like three-year-olds do.  Elliot gave me the rod and showed me how to “load” the line and then cast it into the water.  It felt restorative after a stressful day, and was exactly what I needed, and even though I was clumsy at first, it didn’t take long to get the feel of it.   There is a meditative cadence and flow to fly fishing.  It almost feels like dancing.  

I drove home feeling a sense of well-being that I had so badly needed, and I thought that it is mostly the little things that bring us the most pleasure.