Significance

The Strenuous Life

Istood in the Little Red River near Libby Shoals with waders suctioned against my legs by the rush of cold water.

My kids were upstream and downstream from me, the whoosh of their fly rods the only man-made sound against the gentle ripple of the river passing through rocks. My wife snapped a few pictures. Though it was warm for the last week of December, the slow-moving water made for pleasant temperatures. It was peaceful.

The fluorescent fly lines contrasted with winter gray clinging to the trees. The lines rolled gently back and forth, back and forth, until the tippet placed the fly gently in water. This pendulum swing is mesmerizing to watch and, on the occasion of December’s final week, provoked some thought about the coming New Year.

I thought about the musician David Bowie and that he once mused that aging is an extraordinary process where you become the person you always should have been. Let me repeat that:

Aging is an extraordinary process where you become the person you always should have been.

Maybe that’s what I was thinking about—a man surrounded by his family as they enjoyed the outdoors together. Maybe that’s what a fulfilling life really is—the coalescing experiences that chisel and sand us into something exceptional.

The New Year desire to start again speaks volumes for who we are as a people. The fact that we celebrate January as a month of rebirth enshrines our experiences, allowing us to move forward toward the person we wish to be. For most of us, that means we’ll dip into the pool of life lessons we’ve compiled and relate them to our need to be better.

I stood in that river, wondering who I want to be, need to be, this year. Not that a 52-year-old man could suddenly make a tectonic shift and change his entire life completely. But, each of us can always take a few steps to become who we always should have been.

Maybe I’ll read more. Maybe I’ll be more patient and less prone to overthinking a problem. Maybe I’ll make time to stand in more rivers.

My oldest son, who is 26 now, called out. “This is the biggest trout I’ve ever seen. I’ve been putting my fly right in front of him. Y’all come try!”

All five of us traipsed to where he was standing. A massive brown trout faced upstream, mouth open, content to sit in a boulder pool and wait for his meal to come to him. My 17-year-old son cast a fly in front of him. Nothing. My 21-year-old son pulled out a spinning reel and danced a lure so close it almost touched the fish’s nose. Finally, I gently dropped another fly in the perfect spot for the trout to see and feel its presence.

Nothing.

We tried to get its attention for another 20 minutes to no avail. Finally, my oldest son smiled and said, “I guess you don’t get to be the king of the river if you go for every artificial lure that comes your way.”

Bingo.

What a great lesson to start a New Year. There are so many fabricated feelings these days, moments that have no depth but are made into mountains. That’ll be my focus.

I’ll try to remember that the important days are often the simplest ones. I’ll try to remember that being still is often the best course of action. I’ll try to remember that avoiding the lure of lesser things will make all the difference in how a year plays out.

My 23-year-old daughter called out, “Got one!” She reeled in a nice rainbow, showing it off to her brothers and me.

We Arkansans are fortunate that we’re surrounded by mountains and valleys, great bike and running trails, and plenty of spots to hunt or fish. We have every opportunity to embark on family excursions that will highlight those experiences that fill us with life lessons and thicken our mental files of right and wrong, of good living versus just getting by.

In these first few months, it’s important to do it, to form the habits that will feed our souls.

While the sun set on the year, I looked to my children as they joked with one another. Fly lines whipped through the air, casting toward the rising rainbow trout. The river was simply beautiful with its towering cliffs and slippery boulders. It moved with a shimmering reflection of blue sky and laughing young adults.

I came back to the moment at hand knowing what I wanted to do with the gift of the coming year.

In 2022, I want to spend each day knowing that despite its anonymity, life is rooted in extraordinary significance. Each experience, each virtue learned from those experiences—to focus on what’s real, the important moments of our days—help each of us become, as David Bowie said, the person we always should have been.