Time is such a precious commodity. When a short-lived gap of freedom presents itself, I’m usually out fishing. Recently, foul weather ruined my plans for the day, so I plop down on my recliner and sulk for a bit while aimlessly channel surfing—that is, until my wife takes control of the remote. She lands on a reality show featuring a petite woman on a mission to clean out closets like a samurai. I am captivated by this diminutive host who guts strangers’ closets and garages filled with clutter. I’m intrigued, yet fighting the desire to do something much more productive than watching a stranger tidy up.
Stifled by Mother Nature and the darkened stormy clouds outside, I’m further drawn into this show about the freedom associated with releasing the hoarding grip on things not used.
I’m quite fastidious—however, things can always be slightly more organized. While consumed in the show and stubbornly refusing to spend the precious free moments cleaning out a closet or sorting through old T-shirts, I finally decide to make a move: I’m inspired—it’s time to purge the fishing storage tubs.
What a great idea it was. While cleaning, I discovered and parted ways with decades-old fishing line; unusable lures chewed up from being cast into docks, trees and rocks and reel parts I will never need or use. For the boat I no longer own, the expensive waxes and cleaners stored in a tub after one use are no more.
The garbage can was filling up quickly. Down went tubes of grease and oil that were dried up and unusable. I must have said 30 times this day, “Why do I have this?” and “Oh, yeah, I remember this.” Pitched! I was being productive. What brought me the most joy, of course, is that all of this cleaning, organizing and parting ways still involved my favorite past time: fishing.
Irrespective of Mother Nature’s not-so-perfect-timing, I’ve concluded and accepted that even if she has other plans for my day, I still find a way to keep fishing top of mind. “Thank you!”
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