And it wasn't just Bob who was catching them. Brad broke all kinds of records. The whole boat got in on the action with the guide attempting to help three out of six people reel them in at the same time.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I was reeling in some of my big projects and breaking them down into baby steps that will hopefully lead to breakthroughs.
I have a tendency to underestimate the amount of time it will take me to do certain things like create a playlist on my iPod or properly hang string lights along my deck or write a letter to United's frequent flyer program requesting my miles get reinstated without a fee.
While I deem all of these things necessary, I tend to put them off during my regularly scheduled life because they require a certain kind of patience, intelligence, and tact I'm usually out of by the end of the work day.
Unfortunately, putting them off does not take them off my mental checklist. Oh no. They hang around the periphery of my awareness and slowly siphon energy off my already compromised reserve so that I'm never quite starting out the day with a full tank.
So this week I'm committed to taking care of the energy leaks and replenishing my supply with flowers, friends, canines, phone calls, and a little retail therapy. I'm on what I fondly refer to as "turtle time," although Bob might argue I'm always on turtle time.
This means I'm allowing myself the luxury of space and time to do the things I normally reserve for evenings and weekends without any expectations of how quickly or efficiently I do them. Ironically, I'm getting a lot done.
The thing about most vacations is we often come back just as stressed as when we leave, or worse yet, sick because any number of new or random things have overloaded our system.
Maybe it's because I've had a lifetime of adventures already and spend so much time at work that makes a week at home so thrilling for me. Or maybe it's that my life is so full that the thought of a week of relative peace and quiet is just as comforting as wearing sweatpants to a buffet.
I need time to digest the smorgasbord of delights that a day can hold. Just because life offers me the all you can experience option, doesn't mean I need to choose it all at once. Just because everyone else is hurrying through the main course so they can take dessert with them in a to go bag doesn't mean I can't sit still and savor one or two selections.
Some moments, days, experiences, even relationships are more of the catch and release variety. By all means, I should go after them with gusto. I should plan for them, anticipate their arrival, participate whole-heartedly when they do arrive, and celebrate their subtlety as well as their sensationalism. And I should definitely document them. (Bob's photo says it all.... "I caught one this big!")
I long to linger just long enough. Kind of like the white tailed deer in my yard today. She stayed just long enough to determine the deer Bob had placed by another tree was a decoy. Looking for love in all the wrong places, she was. Catch and release. (You'll have to look closely to see her in this photo. If only I had taken a different angle you could see her object of affection as well.)Maybe catch and release will become my motto for the summer.
There will always be bigger fish to fry, other fish in the sea, something fishy, you see (sea) where I'm going with this. In the end, maybe life is one big lesson in catching and releasing.
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