Here Fishy, Fishy

Bert and Ernie, companions of fishers of Men, called to the deep blue sea, “Here fishy, fishy!” whereupon the sea would produce it’s glory, jumping into the boat wriggling to and fro with vigor and vim. Yes, Life does indeed have this quality about it’s countenance but unfortunately it’s appeal by the general populace is sorely lacking. Despite such odds and perhaps in accordance to it, the game of fish and fisherman continues to this day.

The Earth, despite some New Age’ers beliefs and fitful imagination, came to be sequestered where those who ‘believe’ in such things turned profit from it. Slaves are never good at anything other than subservience but true to form the flower of Man came to blossom much in the same way of the Century planet. It’s not an exceedingly rare event, just rare.

But as the tides do turn there were others who were positioned to notice such things, and in the due course of events, came to notice. Out of this attentive gathering Bert and Ernie pushed off away from shore and began to set the rod and reel. It’s not that there was a hope or a desire for some specific ‘catch of the day’, but more of an understanding that in order to not rue the day one must fully understand what it is that one wishes to accomplish using a comprehensive knowledge of such tactics which are to be deployed.

Fishing is never a wait and see proposition for when one lets the sands of time escape there is no returning. It’s true that at the turn of the hour time recycles but this is not about the long road home. It’s about skill, dexterity and patience. But sometimes one discovers something quite amazing. While the hook is baited along with the breath, along comes something unexpected. It is the call of the wild, the jungle voice of Tarzan swinging through the trees defining the moment - “Here fishy, fishy!”

And the fish come a-callin’.

I take no credit for such beliefs nor events that one may interpret as being resulting factors. Ernie, in schooling Bert, encourages the intent and attention. The rest, shall we say, just comes naturally.

While I gaze upon the wriggling specimen on the floor boards of the water-borne craft may I suggest that “When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people…”. The thing about division is that no matter how you slice the pie, there is always a whole. It is this connection with the Universe-at-large that defines whole-ness. In separation the yearning for connection can become far too great for one to bear and so as Bert relearns that which has been lost even he too turns the page.

It’s not about the connection we all have because that is already a given, it’s about the dis-connection we assume to be real. Some may ply their trade in order to capitalize upon the illusion but at the end of it all no Man can refuse the call.

I give to you the space, the time and the purpose of walking the path through the jungle of ignorance and out into the open air where one can do the wash and hang the laundry to dry freely, without the burden of sanctity. After all, we - as in each one of us, are nothing more than what we believe and at the end of that road there still remains hope. Perhaps the word ‘patience’ now takes on a more comprehensive understanding, along with the fact that no time exists between the call and the answer. Does this not tell you something?

Do you now see how I’ve directed the attention? While anyone can be taught to fish it’s not the subject at hand which defines the moment, only the context. Upon the backdrop events unfold and it can seem that the play moves forward but looking out through from behind your own eyes do you really believe that it all has substance? I suppose that it could be said that the difference between an awake and aware being and an asleep and unaware being is a hair’s breath of directed attentive energy.

Sing with me now, courtesy of Jay and The Americans, “This magic moment…”

It is the moment and it certainly is not like any other because it involves you. If that isn’t worthy of a jungle yell, I don’t know what is.

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