Where is Your Joy?

Since I was old enough to remember, I've always loved hunting, camping, and especially fly fishing.

Escaping to the outdoors. It was part of our life as a family. It was simply what we did. And it in I always found happiness. Peace. Solace. Joy.

I can't say exactly when that all started to change.

But it did.

After I'd been married for four or five years, when the "honeymoon was over" I began to question, "Is this all there is to life?" I had a beautiful wife, but we fought all the time. I had a good job, with future prospects, but I began to hate, (no, despise) it.

I was a fly fisherman. I lived for it. It was how I perceived myself. It was my main pursuit in life.

But I began to grow frustrated in that pursuit. It was not as enjoyable as it once was. The rivers and places I once loved to go, were becoming more and more overrun with hordes of people, thanks in part to greedy self-promoting fly fishing magazines who felt the "rivers needed more friends."

I had grown more competitive in fly fishing. Always trying to outdo myself. Never satisfied with what I caught. Always bummed out by what I couldn't catch. Obsessed with all the gear, or, more appropriately named; the "Trappings." At one point I had accumulated several thousands of dollars worth of fly fishing and fly tying gear. Not that I paid retail for it. I had friends in the industry that always got me buddy deals. But I was always buying, selling and trading what I had for the "next best thing." But it was never enough.

It became in me, a big, hungry monster that I could never satisfy.

And though I didn't realize it at the time, I had been filling up my life with stuff, to try and fill up the empty and hurting places in my heart.  My mom had told me that back in the seventies she and my dad had done the exact same thing, to try and fill up the empty places in their lives.  But they were never satisfied. And numbing the pain and disappointments of life with alcohol soon became their false substitute for joy.

And I can tell you with sad, deep conviction from our experiences as a family, that this does not work. It only destroys.

Recently in my journal I wrote:

"Your joy can only be stolen if your look for joy in things that can be lost."

 And over the course of my life I have seen that come true more times than I can count.

I used to have a small collection of well guarded "last best places" where I could go to escape, think, meditate on life, etc. But eventually, one after another, all those last best places failed to bring me the solace and peace I so desperately sought. Joy was elusive. Not to be caught.

Where do you look for joy?

For me, what once brought lasting joy, no longer does. Because those things that once brought joy can be, or have been lost. They could never live up to my heavy expectations.

Relationships can die. Spouses move on. Family disowns you. Jobs go away. Money dries up. Favorite rivers or camping spots are now over crowded. Your health can change in a New York minute. Friends move away.

Everything in this life is for a season. Some long, some very short. Our life is literally a vapor. Here today, gone tomorrow.

Today my joy is found in something and someone that can never be lost, never be taken from me. Those of you who know me well, know my secret.

For those of you who don't, I would love to share it with you.

All you need do is ask.


—At The End of My Line.