gone fishing

 Is it me, or at times doesn't life seem to be more difficult or at least a bit more trying?    


It seems that many days are simply a walk in the park, with maybe a few detours, but mostly a good walk  You're moving, you're getting there, it's all good.   It's walking/working, but it's good, its life.   You know how to do that and you know what to expect, for the most part. 
Then there are those few other days, which turn out to be maybe more like pushing a motorless lawnmower through that same, but now noticeably sprawling, tall grass-filled, dog shi_ riddled, mosquito infested, suspected pedophile hangout of a park.


I liken this particular week not to walking in my park but to fishing.  The whole act of fishing.  Not deep sea or anything so elaborate, but like lake fishing.  Lake fishing at my favorite spot in Pennsylvania even.   Doing something I love, where I love to do it, but taking notice of all the work involved in what often seems like a walk in the park/fish in the lake I know so well.
Fishing = living my life...
Some days it's all cast and reel it in.  Other days its more, lots more; like...
Go get the pole.
Don't forget the tackle box!
Make your way to the lake.
Dig up some worms
Put those live worms in damp soil inside the little foam cup you keep in that before mentioned tackle box.
Bait the hook (ick, please, for the love of Pete).
Now here is the nice part of any day, even hard days, we cast the line.
Reel it in (yes, very nice).
Cast again and maybe again.  (This is not bad.  This is pretty darn good in fact.)
Pull in a fish!
See the fish.  (excellent)
Oh sh_t.  Um?  Take it off the hook?  Gut it, cook it, eat it?   Never mind.
Throw it back.   
Walk home. 
Put the stuff away.
Try to forget the worms, the removal of live fish from lovely line, the whole momentary contemplation of cleaning it, etcetera, etcetera.


Just remember casting; joyfully tossing that silvery line into open water.  Don't think about the snags on hidden, sunken logs just beneath the placid surface, knots in your line, lost bait or unavoidable hook pricked fingers. 
Live for the casting and the catching.
Remember it's a hope filled endeavor.