Learning how to Fly Fish

Posted by Melissa Baumgart
Very early Saturday morning, Green Lake was quietly abuzz with runners and swimmers.  Standing on the dock with a full jug of coffee (Thanks, Edie!) were Me, Amy, and four other women all ready for our fly casting lesson.  The original plan was to spend the whole day out near Fall City, on a river, in all of nature's glory.  When there was a miscommunication about which day it was scheduled for, we had to once again roll with the punches, as we often do.

So, we ended up at Green Lake, and like I said, very early.  A couple of us (yes, me included) admitted to waking up with a bit of the feeling like we really weren't going to be into this.  But since we had committed, and paid already, we'd go anyway.  For me personally, once I stepped out onto the dock and felt the sun start to warm my back, I was quickly won over.  And I hadn't even picked up a pole yet.

Our casting instructor, Loren, walked us through putting together a fly fishing pole.  The whole reel situation seemed a lot easier than I recall conventional fishing poles to be.  Once we had the line set up, Loren told us the basics of casting.  We didn't use hooks, thankfully, because I know I whacked myself in the face with that line a number of times.  But if we had, maybe we could have caught the huge fish I saw jump up out of the water!

Here's are the top three things I took home about fly casting:

• Do not flick your wrist.  Keep your wrist straight the entire time.  
• "Picking it up, and putting it down."  Loren told us to think of it like you're picking up a phone, bringing it right up to your ear, using your shoulder in the lift instead of tilting your wrist back to reach your ear.  And then hang up, put the phone down.  We all had fun with this one.  Thinking how soon a new generation isn't really going to get the picking up the phone, since it is always in hand already.  At some points all you could hear were the mutterings of six women reminding ourselves to pick it up and put it down.
• The Pause.  At each stop with the pole, moving back and forth, from front to back, (think 10 and 2 like on a clock), you have a pause.  It's not even a second long, but it's there.  Without it, there is no release of the line, and it just whacks around in the air without grace and flow.  When you get the pause right, it really is a beautiful thing.  

Like many things, it takes a good degree of relaxation in your muscle tone to really "get" it.  But, as a beginner, I found my mind was racing with trying to remember all the how-to minutia, and my body instinctually shifted into a rigid stiffness.  Then, at some point, when my mind drifted off, there would be a moment, where I really felt like I was in the rhythm of it.  The line was looping just the way he taught us, my hand/shoulder motion was "picking it up and putting it down" in just the right way...and inevitably I would start thinking again, and it was gone.

What a life lesson.  Stay present, relax and don't over think it.  

This has come up numerous times during the adventures of this blog.  Definitely during drumming, and then yoga for sure, and learning the Single Ladies dance.  I imagine it is what accomplished musicians experience, or athletes at the top of their game.  Those moments where you transcend the everyday and leave the constant mind chatter behind, and you just are. 

I don't know if I will ever get there with fly fishing, I mean, I can't imagine the perils of just putting a hook on the end of that line.  Maybe I'll just spend my time casting.  Finding my meditative self through fly casting, never catching anything but myself.  Wow, I sound like some crazy lady now.  "Have you heard about the lady at Green lake, she just stands there, casting a fly fishing pole, but doesn't even have a hook."  Yep, that's me, I might just be crazy enough to do it.

reflections

A whole year has passed since Dina and I started this blogging adventure together.  I can remember looking ahead to the coming year back then, with such excitement for each new thing I was going to totally immerse myself into.  My plan, as I recall, was to do whatever new thing that month brought every day of that month.  And if I couldn't make that happen, I would read about that thing or learn about it in some manner.  Some months I lived up to that expectation...I remember during "growing our own food month" I read a Michael Pollan book and watched a few movies on that state of our agriculture system here in the US and found it all to be very inspiring.  And i felt like i used my time wisely considering after I planted my seeds, there wasn't a whole lot to "do" for a bit...besides chasing away big dogs and their big fat paws from my little plant babies.  During "painting month" and "learning the Beyonce dance month" I found a way to do those things most days, and found it even easier to feel guilty about not doing them on the days I didn't make them a priority.

"Sewing ourselves a dress month" nearly brought me to a murderous state...what with all the tension and agro-ness toward sewing, and the big scissors in my hands.  I totally hate sewing, as I do most crafty endeavours; and I knew that going into it and often found myself with fabric and thin pattern paper everywhere wondering...why in the fuck did I pick this?  But I have to say, I am so proud to have finished that mini dress.  Every time I wear it I find a way to let someone know...."I made this!"  Would I do it again?  Maybe.  And yes, I am a bit crazy.  Then there was "writing month", remember that?  Of course not!  I didn't write a goddamn thing.  That was a shocker, I thought I loved writing.  I even, at one point in college, thought it could be one of my hidden talents.  Turns out, the blank piece of paper won again.  Almost.  I did finish that readers write submission!  The other total flop of the list had to be "salsa dancing month."  It started out fine, going dancing for Jamie's birthday....and then never again.  Sometimes life and the priorities it sets right in front of you take center stage, not the dance floor.

By far, clearly, my favorite was "yoga month."  I had no idea it would sweep me off my feet the way it did.  and even more of a shocker was that it would be Bikram Yoga that I fell for.  I gave everything I had to that practice and I am sure you know, dedicated another whole month to this moving meditation...completing a 30 day challenge.  Other months that I liked included drumming, the vegan diet, and the make-up-your-own-month where I did a simplifying of my stuff, a major purging.

I am so, so grateful that I took on this year of trying new things.  I learned so much about myself and life and people.  I gained a self confidence I never had before.  I have a stronger foundation from which I can stand and greet the world in a new and more diverse way.  And I am looking forward to a year of new activities, new lessons, new challenges, and new triumphs.  I wonder if I am still looking for a passion?  Or am I finding a way to stay youthful and maintain some sort of mental flexibility, and physical too in some cases.  I love that this helps me be open to trying new things...those of my own imagination and dreams and those of someone else's.  You never know what someone else is going to put on that list.

Amy and I revealed our new lists last night at a dinner to celebrate finishing the 30 days of yoga (which was much harder and less euphoric than I had created it to be in my mind all month.)  I think both of us would have rather been soaking in a hot bath tub or snuggled in a warm blanket on our couches, but in the end we had a great time.  It was so fun to pick each folded piece of paper and unfold it not knowing what was written inside, and then share our thoughts and ideas and research we had done for each topic.
So....we will reveal the list tomorrow, with a new look and feel to the blog.

xoxomelissa


PS...and now, I leave you with my submission to the Sun magazine:

Readers Write Submission

Paying Attention

For the past month I have been practicing yoga every day.  Every day I spend 90 minutes in a room heated to 105 degrees, working my body into 26 different postures and sweating.  When I set out on this challenge, I assumed that the physical aspect would give me the most trouble.  And while it has at times, what I am discovering is that the mental component can prove to be much more of a struggle…but with exponential benefits.

The unspoken question arises moment-to-moment….what am I going to pay attention to?  Am I going to mentally jump ahead and worry about what postures are coming next, and what postures I can weasel my way out of without too much self-deprecation to follow?  Am I going to pay attention to my trembling muscles moving and holding the poses, the teacher’s calm voice guiding me through each posture?  Or am I going to be in each moment, totally present, only paying attention to my breath coming in and my breath going out? 

The times where I am paying attention to my breath and not the mental chatter are fleeting, but blissful.  I get to that place by being a beginner again, and not anticipating, not reviewing…just following instructions.  It seems to me that being in that state is a sort of “not paying attention” to anything.  Those few moments when the mind is clear are elusive and beautiful, and can disappear as soon as you start paying attention to them. 

We can spend all the minutes of our day paying attention to the details of life…getting the dishes clean, making sure all the bills are paid, folding the laundry, feeding the kids, answering the phone, the list goes one and on.  I feel unending gratitude for those brief moments where my mind is free to not pay attention to anything, to just be and not attach to any thoughts, watching them float by like clouds on the sky.

be very thoughtful, and then let go.

The Baumgart family Xmas tree

so, remember last week, when i didn't want to go to drum class?  and then it turned out, class was awesome.  Seems every week (even without me practicing...shhhh, don't tell my teacher) i get better and better.   i mean, not to toot my own horn, or beat my own drum as the case may be...(seriously, sometimes i think i have a blog to simply let my cheesy, ridiculous side shine) but, i have been getting better at this.  the only time i pulled my drum out from under the cowboy hat that it displays in my pink kitchen, was on christmas eve.  we had a hell of a party...i made a shit-ton (a phrase that has taken up space in my inner monologue for weeks, why?) of tamales and a lot of margaritas and palomas.  Everyone that came, at least 30+ people brought lots of other yummy things to eat and drink as well.  and a good time seemed to be had by all, especially when gathered around the foosball table cheering yours truly on.  yes, i take that shit seriously.  and Rosette, i ruled that table, you never stood a chance.  i am the competitive wench my mother-in-law calls me, i guess.  yet, somehow, it doesn't feel great to be called that by your mother-in-law when you are simply racing your kids in the swimming pool.  so what i if i am nearly 30 years older than them.  anyway.  i got out my drum, and while listening to the Grateful Dead, eyes closed, head making figure 8's in the air...i played it.  i actually played the drum i paid $25 to rent for the month.  and it rocked.  maybe not my playing, but that moment of remembering the "old" days, and jamming out like the hippy that i am.  it was all worth it.

so tonight....i had my last (maybe) drum class.  i really, really did not  want to go.  i actually thought of pretending i forget to give my husband (a previous drummer) one of his Christmas presents and say i was giving him my last drum class.  cause i am so giving like that.  but i bucked up and went, cause i have been slack, yet again, and felt i needed to be loyal to the commitment i made to you faithful readers.  if you are even out there at all anymore.  i went.

and i kicked ass.  so, i went late, cause i am usually the first one there and it is super awkward for me.  just me and the teacher, shaking the little egg shaped shakers and i hate it.  i hate it.  then we get to the clapping and the fancy foot work.  and finally other show up, but still i hated that part too, cause it used to make me feel like i was falling over and like i was a complete idiot for not being able to clap and step. let's stress the word "used".  i used to hate that part.  but now i got it, i can totally get that together, hand, foot, hand shit...and it love it.  so, i get there late...and there are all new people.  i am the only old student...and when the shit hits the fan, i totally kept it all together!  i carried the beat.  the other students were looking to me to see what to do!  can you believe it?

i wanted to go on and on to the newbies that were obviously having a hell of a time just clapping, that it was me only a few short weeks ago that was almost falling over trying to get the basics.  and now look at me!  clapping, footwork, and singing...all different rhythms, each part of me, and keeping it together.  unbelievable!

i said in class tonight, and the teacher agreed...it's like you have to concentrate to intensely, and then be able to let go and let your body keep doing the things you thought so hard about and trust that you will keep doing it.  be very thoughtful, and then let go.  um.....kinda like life? right?

tonight i contemplated continuing drumming, even after night of dreading going.  the bembe got to me.  the afro-cuban beat that calls god to be with them, that was originally used to call from one village to another in Africa (so, maybe i could be wrong but this is what i remember from class).  it got to me.  i felt like i was one and yet part of another whole.  i highly recommend drumming.  i highly recommend trying new things.  everything is connected.

and just wait...not only does next month, the last month of our twelve month journey involve meditation, yoga and probably a bit of the cleanse found on vegan month.  but there is another exciting announcement.  new things on the horizon for Good Luck with That!


xoxomelissa