Without Intent

As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I fished without intent to catch.

Why?

Well…for several reasons.

First – I didn’t want to clean any I caught. That’s the rule, right? If you catch ’em you clean ’em.

Second – I was there to RELAX, unwind and avoid stress. Just baiting the hook was stress-filled. (I’ll explain later.) And, losing my bait to nibblers as soon as it hit the water…um…NO.  That got old fast!

Third – I got tired of sticking crickets and flinging my line back out only to repeat within minutes.

Fourth – it was more fun to watch Hubby.

Fifth – I didn’t have a fishing license (neither of us did). (More about that later, too.)

Sixth – there was oh so much to see, smell, hear and pay attention to that I found it hard to keep my eye on the bobber.

Seventh – I just wasn’t in a fishing mood…I didn’t want to kill anything.  Not even crickets.  I wanted to live and let live.

So, after 20+ attempts at catching a fish (okay…half-hearted attempts), I grew weary with piercing crickets. I stopped baiting the hook.  I would just reel it in and cast it again if Hubby suggested my bait had been taken.

(Look…when I see a cricket turn its head and watch me pierce its body with the hook like a child watches as the doctor gives a shot, and I feel sorrow for the cricket…it’s time to stop.  I was there to leave stress behind – not pile more on myself.)

So, there I was fishing without intent.

Then, I realized I could still catch something. I’d done so before, years ago, when reeling my line in…snagged a fish in the head.  So, I snipped the hook from my line and tied a large weight to the end.

Then I cast it back out – way out – and fished without intent.

I mentioned previously that Hubby and I were fishing without licenses.  From what we had heard and read, it was Free Fishing Day. But still…there was that nagging concern – what if we were wrong or the Mr. Ranger Sir wasn’t aware…. So, fishing without intent meant fishing without concern.

Fishing without intent was relaxing and fun.

Fun?  Yep…Hubby had no idea I’d stopped baiting my hook or that I’d decided to go sans hook.

His repeated invitations to move my line and share his fishing spot so I could catch a fish brought repeated smiles to me as I said  “no thanks, I’m sure I won’t have any better luck there.”

Fishing without intent was a secret I kept for quite some time – until that mystery thing (The One That God Away) claimed my sinker and bobber and I had to own up to the fact that I was “fishing” sans hook.

The look on Hubby’s face was priceless.

“No hook?” he later asked incredulously. “Why?”

Why indeed – I didn’t want to be preoccupied with something I cared little about at the time when I could fish without intent and receive pleasure/satisfaction from doing so and thereby free myself to be intent on what mattered most to me.

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