A couple decades ago, I was in St. Kitts visiting a beach. Every time someone would get up from their chairs and go to the water, monkeys would rush to the abandoned chairs…and drinks….and proceed to fight for the fruity, alcoholic drinks.
At the edge of the jungle, sitting high in a tree, a lone monkey screamed at the others and I heard, very clearly, his words, “Damn! The monkeys.” I imagined he was their treatment director screaming at them to abstain from the mind-altering substance that was crippling their lives.
I wonder….do our angels or guides or ancestors hang around us saying similar phrases to us? Hoping we’ll make better choices?
It’s easy to repeat the same old patterns, much easier than changing. Every time I see this photo and remember that experience I remind myself to dig deep, reach for the stars and know that I have everything I need to make this the best life I possibly can…without competing for things I don’t even need.
As many of you know, I’m starting a holistic fly fishing program to help empower individuals, called Wading Women…men are welcome, too, in case you are wondering.
In order to better understand what people want in outdoor experiences, I created a survey and shared it via email and social media. It wasn’t a researched-based survey because it wasn’t a ‘tested’ instrument. I was simply taking a pulse on what people want and how they relate to Nature, as I plan programs for Wading Women.
Things that stood out to me: 75% of the 72 participants rate themselves at a 7 or above in a wildness scale of 1 to 10; ninety-two percent reported they are deeply connected with Nature; and 88% are satisfied with their relationship with Nature. Over half of those surveyed prefer water over land. Participants are connected elementally with water more that the elements of earth, air and fire with over 50% choosing the element of water and 33% finding the element of earth their favorite. There was a wide range of people doing their favorite activity—37% said they don’t get to do it enough and 33% said they did it 5 times a week or more. Almost a third reported the reason for not doing what they love outdoors is having nobody to go with them and 60% said lack of time was their reason. Perhaps most surprising to me was 67% reported negative emotional reasons for not connecting deeper with Nature (fear, feeling inadequate, self-judgement, feeling disempowered or incapable). Forty-three percent reported outdoor meditation and yoga appealing as ways to deepen their connection with Nature. And finally, nearly half reported their connection with Nature is spiritual (as opposed to mental, physical or emotional). Guided experiences outdoors were what 57% surveyed found appealing as ways to deepen their connection with Nature.
I was delighted and grateful that people took the time to complete the survey and will be using their input as I move toward a launch date for Wading Women. Of course, if they know me or follow me on social media, they would not be a random sampling of individuals as they would probably have a bias for Nature; but the survey was very helpful in giving me good ideas of where to focus my efforts and what people want.
In my personal journey, Nature is where I heal and connect. It was already my intention to have mindfulness as a key component of experiences with Wading Women. The survey reminds me that I’ll be providing something people actually want, not just what makes it awesome for me.
(David Knapp, one of my fly fishing mentors)
It’s possible to use fly fishing as a way to grow, heal, and connect. The survey showed that people feel deeply connected with Nature and find a spiritual connection to it, rooted in water. What better way to expand that than fly fishing and wading.
By adding mindfulness, yoga, and having the practices of catch and release and keeping fish wet, it makes sense to call it holistic fly fishing. While catching fish can be part of it, it will never be my goal to set catch records or pursue fish relentlessly. It’s all about balance of body, mind, spirit and emotions, not photographs of stressed fish. It’s about cultivating relationship with Nature…that includes fish, water, trees, rocks, self and each other.
I am taking the entire month of July to celebrate and launch this new adventure and hope you’ll join me as we explore our connection with Nature and ‘dance’ with fish and their amazing ecosystem.
To learn more, please visit Wading Women online. Just about everything you need to know about your day in the water is there. If you have questions or wish to schedule, please contact me by email or call 828-333-3990.
A little about me…I’m a Nature writer and photographer, fly angler and newly hatched guide with decades of leading various outdoor adventures. I have been a scuba instructor and trip leader, ropes course facilitator, zip line guide, state park naturalist, environmental educator and counselor. My undergraduate degree is from Auburn University with a BS in Outdoor Recreation and a minor in Resource Management. My graduate degree is in Counseling from Auburn University at Montgomery. I can’t wait to share the joy of holistic fly fishing with those wanting to wade and explore Beauty.
Beyond the sound of water flowing over rocks is something more. If you listen, really listen, you can hear it, but not with your ears.
The creek holds the vibration of creation for the entire ecosystem. I go to fish and yet there is so much more I find besides a few moments, here and there, of dancing with wild trout.
(Photo of Simone by David Knapp)
In the woods, standing in clear water, I connect with something greater than myself. Everything that keeps my monkey mind in an uproar drops away the longer I wade and cast. Today was over 4 hours and 5 miles of being present, completely present. Fifteen minutes after leaving the creek, monkey mind started up again. I looked at the clock and laughed. But I recognized it and was able to drop back into that state of peaceful oneness. Practice, practice, practice.
I think of fly fishing as mindfulness meditation. Everything I do while wading and casting requires complete focus and presence. Slippery rocks are a perfect mindfulness mentor, Watch where you step, be one with the flow, or whatever else rocks might whisper in their gravely voice (pun intended).
Wild trout magi teach mindfulness about blending in, being quiet, being observant. They teach compassion and respect…land them quickly, keep them in the water, release them quickly.
The green moss, trees, wildflowers, birds singing…all teachers of mindfulness; however, the most powerful mindfulness teacher for me is water. It has been my entire life.
(Photo by David Knapp)
When I moved away from the Gulf Coast several years ago, back to the mountains, several friends asked how I would be able to live away from the water. The funny thing is, I spend more time in the water now than I’ve ever spent in my entire life. I guess I moved to be closer to my master teacher.
I’m starting a program called Wading Women, designed to empower women through fly fishing. I don’t know if women that are drawn to this program will feel the mindfulness aspect of wading and casting, but I want to give them the opportunity to do so.
Beyond the sound of water flowing over rocks is something more. When I connect with that something more, I am changed and return from the experience a better version of myself.
Featured image by David Knapp of Simone wading. Visit Troutzone Anglers to learn more about David’s work.
It had been a lovely day of wading. Several brookies and a rainbow danced with me. I helped a bat get back to his tree, found three spools of expensive tippet in the water, and enjoyed the green bursting out everywhere in the mountain forest.
As I was finishing my hike, I glanced across the field, behind the old church, and saw a wedding happening. The white dress, bride’s maids…the whole thing. My car was parked along the dirt road, past the dressed up folks at the wedding. I was wet wading so was soggy up to my knees, had on a muted green jacket and a baseball cap. Scrambling up and down banks, slipping on wet rocks…doesn’t lend itself to fancy dress.
(Photo by David Knapp)
Normally, I’m happy as can be in my fishing clothes. But today, I noticed something happening within me as I contemplated walking out in the open, past the wedding party. I noticed I started walking with my head down and feeling self-conscious. What am I feeling, I asked myself. The answer came immediately…shame.
My brother and me enjoying dirty feet and freshly caught fish.
It was like my entire life flashed in my mind and I saw how hard it was for me to be myself growing up, which was a jeans and tee shirt girl with skinned knees nearly all the time. It wasn’t any better moving into my teen years when expectations to conform to social pressure were high. I never fit into the girlie mode yet feared if I was myself, I wouldn’t be accepted. But I still wore jeans, avoided the ‘in-crowd’ and always felt like I didn’t fit in.
I’ve always been fierce in standing up for myself…what to wear, how to be in the world…30-something Simone
Feeling that way helped me grow to love solitude. I could be myself when it was just me and my horse or my dog. I could dress however I wanted to, ride on the dirt road and open my heart to the sky and fields, free from the pressure but grievously aware I didn’t fit in, hardly anywhere. Anywhere except with Nature.
I hadn’t thought about any of this in decades until I noticed shame arise when I was faced with dressed-up people in the field I was about to walk through. Of course, now I realize I was dressed appropriately to be in a national park, out in the woods…hindsight, you know.
I reflected on my life as a kid and teen a bit after that moment of shame arose. The definition of shame is the painful feeling arising from the consciousness of something dishonorable, improper, ridiculous done by oneself.* As if the way I dressed or the fact that I loved horses and dogs and being outside was somehow ridiculous because most kids didn’t do that…no, most girls didn’t do that.
Yes, I wore a cowgirl outfit as a kid and loved my grandmother Wenzel who grew flowers and had puppies.
How much pain we go through being real. By the time many of us are adults, so many protective layers have been applied that we hardly know ourselves. If we are courageous enough to strip away those layers and be real, I suspect we’ll discover light that would illuminate the world.
I still love dogs…
The solitude I cultivated as a teenager has blossomed into a deeply spiritual practice. As I wade and hike and cast, I open myself to Life…and it is so good. And to the girl with skinned knees, the teen riding her horse in jeans and a tee shirt, and the 60-something year old woman wearing fishing clothes, I say this: your beauty shines bright, keep your heart open, and never, ever be anything other than yourself. When who we really are is embraced and encouraged, magic happens.
(One of the reasons I am creating Wading Women is to empower women to claim the wildness within, to enjoy Nature without feeling a need to fit in or conform to anyone else’s expectations. And to fill their lives with their wonderful, shiny hearts.)
As I wandered and waded today, I felt a bit off from my usual happy-water-vibe. I couldn’t settle into myself. Couldn’t cast worth anything. I was about to jump on my own case when I heard, like a trickling whisper, The wind is really strong today. It’s okay. It’s very gusty. Just relax and have fun.
So I relaxed and let go of trying to cast perfectly, took off the dropper (nymph fly) and started just playing with a dry fly in the wind. I worked on casting for about an hour. The wind gusted and stopped, gusted and stopped, and I casted and cursed…but only in fun.
I was in a large (for this creek) area so I could actually do a full back cast. I chose different rocks to target and worked on accuracy in the crazy gusts. I didn’t worry about spooking trout because I was just playing around and practicing and had already cast all over the deeper pool and thought I’d scared any trout into hiding.
Even with my casting and quickly stripping line in, a trout started rising in all of that madness and eventually took the dry fly, which totally surprised me after that much chaos in its watery realm. You never know when it comes to trout. (That totally blows every bit of advice on being stealthy while casting).
But it’s not the trout I want to introduce to you, kind reader. Today I want to introduce you to one of my best friends.
It is birthed at 3400 feet above sea level, where Chasm Prong and Gulf Prong come together, miles away from its terminal point at Oconaluftee River. Washout Branch and Bearwallow Branch are two of many small waterways that come together to create my friend, each adding their own unique energy to the ever-growing flow as it moves down, down, down.
When I was feeling out of sorts today, I stopped and looked at the wildflowers blooming, the bright green reflections of new tree leaves in its surface, and the moss-covered rocks around the banks and felt so grateful for the friendship we’ve shared over the past few years.
Sometimes my friend is wild and too crazy to wade in, but days like today, my friend caresses my legs with its 58 degree temperature and makes me feel included, surrounded, part of itself. I can feel discombobulated with crazy monkey-mind shenanigans happening in my head, and my friend calms me, soothes me and points out birdsong nearby…or reminds me that the wind is rather gusty.
The creek has many friends that hang out…trout, bears, birds, wildflowers, snakes, mayflies, trees, moss, rocks…when we all get together it’s a real party.
It’s my sincere hope that all humans can find friends in Nature and visit regularly to have celebrations, dances, and prayer meetings.
