It is 5am.  I rarely encounter this iteration 5 o'clock.
With a good measure of difficulty I roll out of bed and begin to make my way downstairs towards the smell of cooking breakfast.  It is dark throughout the house, save for a small light above the sink in the kitchen.  My roommate is already up and working his magic over the skillet.  We share our traditional jabs about who was able to wake first, and who will get a lesser share of the bacon.
This is our ritual, the beginning of some of the best times we can hope to spend together.
After breakfast and coffee, we load up the truck and begin barreling down the road, bound for more elevated territories.  Much of the trip to Location X is filled with talk of strategy and timelines; which fly patters to use in what waters, what part of the creek we will be in by which time of day- that sort of thing.  Both of us have been lately practicing a technique called Tight Line Nymphing.  "Competition regulation", my roommate says, and the new challenge lends itself to a good deal of excitement.
We continue to bump along the dusty dirt road, a bit worn from the most recent heavy rainfall, until we reach the mouth of the creek.  The truck is tucked back in the brush along the bank, and we throw on our gear and packs.  We are in the water and making our way upstream just as the sun is beginning to peak through the trees.
To the casual observer, it would all appear more closely associated with hunting than fishing.  We wear camouflaged patterns, creep low through the thicket, and crawl over river rocks like lizards.  These are all very necessary measures, as we are stalking through Native Trout territory.  These fish are much more elusive than their stocked siblings, and many times more difficult to land.  The particular nature of native trout requires a delicate approach to the water.  Once a run has been cast into a handful of times, we move on.  If one of us slips on a stone and causes more than a small ripple upstream, we move on.  If the sun peaks from behind a cloud and causes us to cast a shadow towards the other bank, we move on. As is such, there is a fair balance of moving through rough-cut trails and along the bank between cast series. 
Each run is approached with a due level of respect and consideration.  The first few casts allow the nymph to dead-drift through the current.  Each subsequent cast incorporates various jigging techniques in order to rouse any particularly coy salmo trutta that may be patrolling nearby.
By noon we have made our way several miles upstream to the confluence.  We share our customary mid-day meal of Pepsi and beef jerky, with Cow Tails for dessert and sustained energy. 
It is at this moment that the serious business begins.  After lunch we each pick a side of the fork to work up, and assign ourselves a 200-yard beat to fish exclusively.  This is to simulate the circumstances in a competitive scenario, and practice having to catch fish in an area with limited potential. 
"Fish to the right side of the fork if it has rained recently, fish to the left side if it is cloudy".  This is what we were told by a guide we met along the way, who begrudgingly offered the information due to the fact that we already had knowledge of this particular location.  It was neither cloudy nor had it recently rained, so we consider conditions to be all square.
The remainder of the afternoon continues on in similar fashion, as it usually does.  We see no other people moving about.  It is sincerely rare that anyone ventures this deep in to the wilderness area.  Being among wilderness so rarely exposed to humans, we regularly see patterns of animal behavior that surprise us.  You come to understand and appreciate the depth and beauty of the natural world beyond what one can observe from the side of a nature trail.
We meet back up at the confluence before daylight begins to wain and begin to make our way through the woods and back towards the footpath.  The walk back is filled with talk of successfully implemented strategy, and a comparison of catch numbers.  This is, of course, on the honor system.  In a way, this conversation and the long trek out of the wilderness is the best part of the trip.  The conclusion of another good day, marked by some great shared experience.

things dangerous to come to

Release the Reigns

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O9DICw3J914

^^^
This is one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite bands.
It doesn't have a ton to do with this post, I just like it.

Maybe it has a little to do with the post.

We'll see how it goes.  I'm going to try something new and write stream-of-conciousness.
Sometimes that is a better method of thought collection, albeit a poorer method of literary expression.



Life is hard.

Life is hard for almost everyone.

I heard it said once that you are either headed in to a storm, in the middle of a storm, or headed out of a storm and getting ready for the next one.
This is a pretty good piece of imagery.

We can do everything within our power to avoid a lot of the more obvious cracks in the pavement, and still fall in to a sinkhole.
Sometimes we can ramble around blindfolded and hope we don't bump in to anything too hard.

Either way, if you engage the world in any significant way, there is no possibility of missing the challenges along the way.
It is what we do with these things; mistakes, challenges, trials, hard times, whathaveyou; that matter.  It is what builds us and strengthens us.

Taking the events of your life and using them to shape yourself in to the person that you want to become is the goal.  By any means necessary.

If you are willing to put in the work, and face parts of yourself or your life that you may not be comfortable or satisfied with, I promise it will be worth your time

Along the way, there will be people, and things, that will be measures of comfort, guidance, and solidarity.
When the real challenges present themselves, some of these things will be there, and will come up short.
The only true sufficient source will be you.  Your character.
At the center of this will be Christ.

I don't mean this in an uber-preachy way.  I mean this sincerely.

I have a very difficult time keeping this perspective.

It's like a perfect resource book resting on my shelf that I never dust off an read.
I pass by it every day and think "maybe I should open that up and take a look", but never do, then trip and fall down the stairs.


I do know that God never said that life would be easy and clean.
He never said that you could move through it smoothly with all of the dots lining up just right along the way.
It will be hard, confusing, messy.  Regardless of what our expectations are going in.


The point is, in some roundabout way, you have to deal with what is in front of you in the best way you can.  Head on, and with a clear heart.

If your struggling heavily at your job, have relationships that are falling away, aren't where you think you might need to be, and feel run down in general, it's easy to say "Well, at least I have all of my fingers and toes".
But that is a momentary reprieve from the task at hand.  What needs to be done to address what's on your heart?

This may seem counter-intuitive, but I think that an emphasis is too often place on the journey, rather than the destination.
You read that correctly.

Yes, the path along the way is very important, and largely shapes whatever the destination ends up being.

However, I think the end-goal is often undervalued or, rather, underutilized.


What is it that you ultimately want?  What does that look like right now? 
Who do you ultimately want to be?  What would that person do right now?



It's late.  I'm tired.