As a guide and instructor, I often get some variation of the question; “what are the most important things in fly-fishing?” Invariably, I give the guide's standard reply; “It depends.” Answers to that question are usually situational and I follow up the first rejoinder with a more detailed and hopefully, helpful response. Most of the time it’s about the water, the fish or technique.
Being in a more contemplative mood as I write this, here are three things that struck me as my key mental aspects of fly-fishing. Their value comes in their wide-ranging applicability.
Balance
During a recent mediation practice, the topic was balance and, like many times, my thinking in those quiet moments went to fly-fishing. There were many situations where balance applies. For instance, why go fly-fishing? For many of us, it certainly isn’t to put food on the table like with hunting. As Roderick Haig-Brown put it, “Our tradition is that of the first man who sneaked away to the creek when the tribe did not really need fish.”
We do it for balance in our life; we do it for fun, relaxation and entertainment. To counterbalance the other aspects of our life. As Traver wrote in A Testament to a Fisherman, “And finally, not because I regard fishing as being so terribly important, but because I suspect that so many of the other concerns of men are equally unimportant and not nearly so much fun.”
Sure, I take fly-fishing and guiding seriously, but the enjoyment should always be the other side of that coin. Or, as Tom Rosenbauer, recently quoted in a Boston Globe article, said, “Don’t overthink it. What we do is really stupid, and if you think too much about it, you’ll quit fishing.”
On the water I think about balance as well. I think about the Zen concept of big mind, small mind. It goes something like this. On the one hand, you can be like an owl I recently encountered on a favorite mountain stream. The owl was sitting high in a tree, looking over the whole stream, picking out the juicy parts to fish. On the other hand, you can focus intently on your fly, watching for errant movement or more hopefully for an eat by a fish. Seeing the landscape and water around you is big mind. Seeing the fly on the water is small mind. Keeping both in balance is important.
All that relates as well to my second point, perspective.
Perspective
As a student of the stoics, I learned about perspective.
Marcus Aurelius, in his Meditations wrote, “The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.”
As I go about guiding and fishing, I confront many impediments. Weather, time, water conditions, rod choice, fly choice, knots, on and on, and you get the picture. The actions I take dealing with those impediments inexorably lead to an outcome. How you deal with impediments is a matter of perspective, both mental and physical.
The physical ones are usually pretty straightforward. Around, over, down, across and so forth. Your perspective can be like the owl’s overlooking the river or focused on the fly. In both cases, you will encounter impediments to action. Some are bigger deals than others, but all lead to some action.
Getting to the river presents impediments for sure. In mountain streams, I will often pull up a map and get a high-level perspective than zoom in for a closer look. As I approach the stream, I’ll take advantage of the bank level perspective.
Getting a fly where I want it to go can often mean changing my position, a change in physical perspective, if you will. In other cases, it may mean some other tweak like tippet size or length, or fly color or size. Now I’m trying to get at the impediment to eating from the fish’s perspective.
That’s not to say some impediments aren’t challenging or even dangerous. As challenge and danger increase, the mental aspect of perspective gets a workout. Do I cross here? Do I fish in this weather? Do I know where I’m going and can I self-rescue if I mess up? As someone said, “good judgement comes from experience, and experience comes from poor judgement.”
How you deal with those impediments is more often than not a mental game.
Rhythm
Rhythm in fishing is one of those things that is hard to describe. It’s in the “I know it when I feel it” category. Mental balance and perspective are important building blocks for establishing rhythm.
Sometimes the rhythm is a seamless transition from situation to situation, place to place, fish to fish. Sometimes you are aware of it and sometimes you notice it only when it goes away.
When I lose the rhythm, I fall back on the one of my favorite mantras; “slow is smooth and smooth is fast.” It is a foundational concept for my fishing, guiding and, truth be told, much of my life. How well I do that very often tells me what kind of day or experience I’m going to have. That mantra and how well I keep to it is the first step to establishing a rhythm for the day.
Slowing down, getting that owl’s eye view and taking a few deep breaths often get’s me back on track. I’ve also learned to let things go. Shit happens, learn the lesson, let it go and move on.
Here’s to your peace of mind and more enjoyable fishing.