Supplement to "Fishing"

"Wild" vs 

Manicured

Inspired by Yael.
 

Fishing

A stream winds through our densely populated high-rise district in Seoul. It runs about ten meters below street level, secluded from the sights and sounds of life above. The city government thoughtfully built walking paths along both banks and lined them with decorative plants.

It's springtime, and the flowers are in full bloom. In some stretches, bright red poppies grow in wild abandon. In others, lovingly manicured flower beds form artistic displays of color and shape. Rock steps laid across the streambed make the water sing as it flows. Many residents enjoy their free time walking these paths. Their quiet presence does not disturb the various waterfowl that visit the stream.

As I walked, my thoughts drifted between the vivid beauty around me (Mindfulness) and considering ways to test my latest investment strategy (Planning).  On the stream bank, I spotted a heron. With its flowing white beard and long black ponytail, it must be a venerable figure in the heron community. I’ve noticed it on previous walks. It stood near the water, perfectly still, intently watching the stream below—clearly waiting for a meal.

Curious, I sat on the rocks beside the water to observe. The warming sun, the cool breeze carrying the scent of flowers, and the gurgling current created an atmosphere that invited stillness. Now and then, the bird would stretch its long neck toward the water. I, too, would tense with anticipation—and... nothing. No movement. It returned to its quiet vigil.

That waiting reminded me of a lesson Doron shared with me on a long-ago hike: “The point of fishing is not catching fish. It’s the wait.” Time passed. I expected the heron to fly off in search of a better spot, but it didn’t. And, surprisingly, my mind didn’t wander either.

Eventually, I rose and walked home.

Dear reader, if you've read this far, hoping for some grand point, I’m sorry. Perhaps this post should have been titled “Waiting.”