My father was a fisherman.

Taking two little girls with him to the lake was sure to be quite the ordeal. Our trips were always underlined with the evergreen statement:

“You need to be quiet or you’ll scare all the fish away.”

I have come to a much better understanding of both the sport and accompanying sentiment as I’ve gotten older.

On a recent vacation, I spent much of my time alone. I did see a few things in those small Montana towns but I made it a point to venture out to more isolated areas for the views. Traveling without a companion, I had long stretches of scenic solitude – most notably in the car between patches of civilization with no cell service.

I had prepared for this time before the trip by downloading podcasts and audiobooks to keep my mind occupied. However, I found myself seeking out a soft soundtrack of music instead. I did not feel the need to distract myself from my own thoughts. For once in my busy and stressful life, I was not chasing an escape. I found that I didn’t need it. 

The ability to be present with myself is a skill I have been honing for a very long time. To be able to exist in that moment with my own thoughts, to listen and reflect on my own voice in the stillness, is a blessing that I would not trade for anything. It is both an opportunity to gain enlightenment and an avenue to finding happiness sourced from within the self. This is the practice that allows us to recognize that everything we need to do almost anything in this world can be found right here. We come equipped with all the tools.

I am awakening more and more to this simple joy with every moment I spend in its pursuit. I see myself at the precipice of a new chapter containing both spiritual enlightenment and an abundance of self-love. This next path may have to be traversed alone, but I am never lonely if I enjoy my own company. 

Dad’s days of rising before the sun in hopes of chasing the big one are long over. However, I can’t help but find myself wondering if this was the kind of peace he was seeking with every cast. His fishing was akin to the photography I did on my trip in that they are both quiet, independent activities done in the wilderness, not another soul for miles. Full of still moments defined by only the sounds of natural surroundings, devoid of distractions.

I wonder if he sought these moments with the same intentions I do today. As students of peace, we often need to change our scenery to a quieter setting before we can really listen. I wonder if he was chasing the prize of the self as much as he was the catch of the day, putting himself in the right place to reel in enlightenment along with dinner.

Because we need to be quiet, or we’ll scare all the fish away.