The Big Fish Story Every Mindfulness Blog Needs
There I was, gripping my 7-weight fly rod with a force I cannot explain, as I struggled to land the biggest fish of my life.
The trip was for Mark’s 50th and we had fished our hearts out that day (and the previous 2 days) on the Naknek river, just off the infamous Bristol Bay, in Alaska. It was 4:30 pm and I honestly felt pretty done, day dreaming equally about a hot cup of coffee and a cold IPA. Just then our guide Justin said, “let me check this one spot where I saw a big trout the other day” hoping to get us a final win for the day.
He motored over towards the river’s edge and it took just a few minutes for his well trained eyes to spot it. After we all saw it, which took a bit of time for our novice eyes, there was no denying its size—not just big, but HUGE!
Before we could fully digest what our eyes were seeing, Justin said with clear excitement and determination, “here’s the plan.” And without any semblance of doubt he added, “who’s gonna get this one?”
Mark said, “Kari, it’s your turn—get it!” (No pressure there at all, not to mention I had never seen a trout this big in my entire life).
With the light dancing across the water and a cool breeze on my hands and face I began casting just upriver from the boat. About the 4th cast, Justin said, “a little farther out” and just as I prepared to reset, lifting my arm skyward, the hook was set!
“GAME ON,” Justin shouted, “Let it run, Let it run!” He raced to the back of the boat, started the engine and while I held onto the rod for dear life, we pursued this aquatic beast.
I hadn’t seen the fish yet, but the simple fact that it ran me straight into my second layer of line (about 100ft) and was still going, gave me clarity that this was THAT fish. Holy *!@?*$!
With every fiber of my being laser-focused on the fish, and my movements, the boat, the voice of my guide giving me all the advice and Mark whispering gentle encouragements, about 15-minutes went by. We continued to play the game just this way. Fish runs, I allow, fish rests, I reel (and reel and reel and reel). Repeat.
I’ll have you know I actually trained to be out on these waters, fishing for this trip, but the one muscle group I failed to target was my forearms. And not in my wildest dreams did I imagine this size of fish would be on the end of my line while I had been doing my prepatory strength training!! Now I was getting flashes of that regret as significant muscle fatigue set in.
At some point Justin cut the engine, hopped in the water, large fishing net in hand, and we began the final descent. Fish into net. The closer it came, faking me out several times, I could not believe what my eyes were seeing. It’s size, it’s life-force, it’s flash of color—pure Rainbow trout, fly-fishing persons ecstasy.
In the end, after photos were taken and we were standing in the river’s shallows, having set the beauty free, I just stood there and Mark said “How do you feel?”
Feeling fully awestruck of the dance I had just been privileged enough to have with this strong and elegant creature of the Naknek, I said “speechless.” On the boat ride home, it began to rain, and as I looked over at Mark smiling, heart brimming with joy and gratitude, I felt a tear streak down my cheek.
For me, fishing is like meditating. Touching into the divine— fully hooked into and connected at the heart level. No it’s not always like this, as any fisher person can tell you. There’s lots of “failed outings,” frustration, interference, weather, time, and cost hurdles.
Nor is it divine or heart opening in this way every time I come to sit. But it’s the dedication of time and interest that we put into anything that we do, or want to do, that opens that space for divine moments to shine through. Moments when we feel our deepest connection—through the body, the heart, or perhaps through nature’s beauty, in this case through the wild and gorgeous Rainbow trout.
I honor you Mr or Mrs. BIG Fish. I am also deeply grateful to Justin Crump, his effort and enthusiasm and expertise to help me land such a fish, and to the river itself that gave us the conditions to have had this experience.
This “Big fish story” is all to say, come join me starting Oct 15th, for an 8-Week Mindfulness Course that won’t teach you about fishing, but will teach you about how to catch what it is you are seeking and how to move away from stress habits and suffering. Committing to this 27-hour program is going to open up space for your own moments of divine joy and connection to shine through!
Over the eight weeks together we will wind our way up and down the rivers of the mind, never sure what we may catch or release. But one thing is certain, the potential for learning to grow through the storms of life is here. The journey is worth it, and so are you. (No permits, strength training or fishing gear required!) Whew.
Mindfully Yours,
Kari