My husband recently had the opportunity to attend a fly fishing retreat for men who are facing cancer. It was introduced to us by a friend who discovered the organization called "Reel Recovery". He was accepted and drove to Colorado where he stayed in a mountain lodge for two nights and learned how to fly fish. Brett's a fisherman. He spent a great deal of time in his childhood fishing with his dad and he has taken our kids on fishing adventures from time to time. He has never fly fished and has always wanted to learn how. It's ironic that cancer gave him that gift. He came home excited, refreshed, and peaceful. It was a calm I hadn't seen for quite awhile. Men are not good at talking about their feelings and fears. Something about having the common bond of cancer and fishing allowed these twelve men to open up and share and experience beauty in life for a few days. It really made me think of what it means to cast your cares. When he cast that fishing line away from him he truly was casting away months of worry and anxiety and felt safe and happy. He did not feel alone and at times when he was alone on the water it was peaceful and soothing.
I'm not good at casting my cares. I prefer to carry them around with me and find new ones to add to my pack. I'm a worrier and I don't like the unknown. I need to put a picture of fly fishing up in my office at work as a reminder to "let it go" and "toss it aside". If I do so I may find an amazing reward at the end of my line.
My son wants to play baseball beyond high school. It's been his dream for years and he is working very hard to make it a reality. Yesterday he had a tryout at a junior college with a strong regional program. He wanted it so badly that he was very tight and nervous and anxious and he didn't perform his best while the coaches were watching. He is a great player but I have to agree with him that they probably didn't see what he is fully capable of giving. He was down. What was amazing to me is that he was invited back later to watch a practice and he definitely cast his cares. He managed to toss the frustration of the morning out into the deepest part of the water and reel in a very positive outlook about how much he learned from the experience. We don't know what next year holds for him. I hope it includes an opportunity for him to continue to play the sport he loves but I am glad that he can keep learning and see the positive side of all things. If he has learned to do that in life then he is a big step ahead of his mother.
As I walked around that campus I choked back tears. Baseball or not, next year marks a turning point. He'll be out of the house in some aspect. He won't be there every day to make me laugh (that's what he does best). He won't be there to debrief and share ideas. He's moving on. I decided that there is a huge difference between what I want for me and what I want for him and I'm trying to focus on what I want for him in life which means casting him out into a big body of water and knowing and trusting that what I reel in will be an amazing adult man who still takes time to make his mom laugh now and then.
Brett said that fly fishing is definitely not as easy as it looks. There's an art to the cast. I am working on perfecting my cast. I'm practicing casting my cares and releasing. You can't hold too tightly or your line will not go to its desired destination. I'm practicing...
