Pocketwater

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To charge forward into a heavy headwind is the compass that defines my true north.

My quest may be out of reach but the quest fills my heart.

To stand on the edge of rough water, to embrace the challenge of the task before me, is the fertile soil of a life well lived. To place your fly in the small void of calm, to lure the prey that lies below. Fly-fishing provides a vivid metaphor for life’s challenges. When viewed in its totality its beauty is overwhelming. When viewed from the perspective of your quest, it can be daunting.

I wonder if the obstacles encountered define the value of the quest. To place that fly at the head of the calm, to give slack in the line to prolong the lapse of time when victory is possible, is the essence of the joy one finds in searching. Fly-fishing on the waters of the Penobscot River in Maine is not for the faint of heart. But for those who search for the true essence of the sport, there may be nothing better.

As with fly-fishing, life offers similar challenges and opportunities. One can tread the easy waters along the shore, or one can step into the fast currents, fully understanding the challenges but fully embracing the possibility of salvation. The path followed is of personal choice. For me, to charge forward into a heavy headwind is the compass that defines true north. My success may constantly be out of reach, but the quest fills my heart.

Oh God, be patient with my unsettled nature. It’s not that I don’t appreciated what’s before me. I am driven by what is out of my reach. The search leads to who I truly am, not what others define me to be. Don’t shy from the rough waters for within the churn are pockets of calm where victory is possible, although fleeting.