I’m an introvert. I like peace and quiet. Alone is my natural state. I also love nature. The wind in the trees, the smell of dirt, the bugs, the very flora and fauna of it all. It grounds me.
You’d think I’d love fishing. I probably would, but for the fact that my stepfather loved fishing. He used to drag us fishing all the time when I was a child. Most likely I’d have enjoyed it if he hadn’t been a sick, twisted, sexual abuser, which meant that there was always this air of palpable tension and impending doom wherever we went. So now, in my head, the whole fishing concept is all tangled up with that disgusting pig.
I kind of resent that. He stole an activity from me that I would have taken to like a fish to water. (See what I did there? Sorry. Had to.) He put his slimy fingerprints all over it, and now it is forever tainted for me. I really shouldn’t give him this power.
I thought about trying to take that power back, but then I realized that I always felt bad baiting the hooks and hurting the fish. And forget about killing and cleaning them. No. Not my thing at all.
So maybe I just need to be an UN-fisherman. I could take all those elements I liked about fishing and apply them, and discard the rest. There’s nothing that says I can’t go out into the wilderness and sit on the banks of a river and just… quietly be.
Yeah. That’s what I’ll do.
Hey! Look what I wrote! http://amzn.to/2mlPVh5