The Stream

{Toddler, circa June 2009}

"Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in."

Henry David Thoreau

Tuesday. August 31, 2010. What's so special about today? Nothing. Something. Everything.

Today is a pocket of time. Of seconds and minutes and hours. Of responsibilities and meetings and appointments. Before you know it, today will be over. Done with.

And it will be Tomorrow. Another day. The next in line. Another morass of mundane and meaningful moments. Moments that will slip slide away into the future. A future that is always there, around a corner, hovering.

Today is time. A sparkling stream that beckons. It is our job to stand. To tie a fly on. And to fish. We must cast out. Be patient. We might get a bite. Or none at all. Today might be about something, something big. Or it might be quiet, coy, unassuming.

What are you fishing for today in the stream of time? Happiness? Knowledge? Success? Love? Understanding? Freedom? Family? Strength? Peace? Awareness? Justice? Health? Wealth?

Or are you fishing to fish, living to live?  Are you a creature who enjoys the simple act of standing there, here, on the edge of the stream? Do you fling the fly just to feel it go? Do you seek for the sake of seeking? Do you relish the sport of existence, the fine art of squinting at the opaque and glittering surface of the water that awaits us?

Either way. Today is time. A tiny stretch of the big stream.

Let's go a-fishing, friends.

_______________________________

• Today, I am fishing for knowledge and peace and relief. What are you fishing for today?