Henry David Thoreau, for me, is the single greatest author in American history. Walden shaped my life in a truly deep and transcendental way, so much so that I named my son after him - Henry David Taylor.

The funny thing about tornadoes is that we really don’t understand them all that well. We know the conditions required, the perfect mix of pressure and temperature, etc., but we cannot predict when and where they will land.

The funny thing about childbirth is that we really don’t understand it all that well. We know the conditions required: the perfect mix of Barry White and a few drinks; then we wait about nine months. But we cannot predict the exact day and time when they will be born.

Henry David Taylor was born on October 20, 2019, the same day a tornado tore through my office building, taking the roof off and sending it into the Home Depot three blocks down the road.

Henry was healthy (he had those cool sunglasses and had to go under the fancy lights). The building was WRECKED, but no one was injured, not even our furniture or a single book. I teased about changing his name to Timmy the Tornado Taylor, but Maggie wasn’t having it.

Henry was born, and he, much like Thoreau, changed my life in ways that words cannot express. But what the hell… let’s give it a go anyway. This is a story about fishing.

A River Runs Through It

I fished some as a kid growing up. My dad loved the jetties on the Flordia coast near Mayport. It was a quick drive from our house, and we would go there sometimes in the summer or on the weekends. He would wake me up in the early morning hours, and we would go. We would fish, eat bologna sandwiches, climb on the rocks, and watch the waves crash against the bay. I can still smell the salty air of the coast even now, one thousand miles away and thirty years later.

When I say I fished some growing up, I mean just that—I fished a little. I caught a fish here or there, but it wasn’t something serious for me. It was just some time with my dad, a pile of rocks, and a sandwich with too much mayo, perfect for a ten-year-old. I didn’t learn to fish until grad school.

“Look, buddy, my brother, and our friend are going to Norfork for spring break to fly fish for a week, so you should come. And hell, man, if you don’t want to fish, you can sit on the deck for a week and smoke cigars and drink your fancy whiskies.” He had me at cigars and whisky. Chance invited me to the finest tailwater for a world-class introduction to fly fishing - I didn’t know it when I agreed to go.

In grad school, we got two weeks for spring break. Mostly so we would have time to catch up on reading and writing projects. I wasn’t behind and other than my dog, I didn’t have much in the way of responsibilities. So sure, I set off to Bass Pro Shop and picked up some waders and other items. Then, we set off on the nearly eight-hour drive to a place that will forever live in the deep parts of the soul. Norfork is, for me, a place where our corporal world meets the divine. A sacred and special place that only we know. If you are one of the few so fortunate enough to fish the Norfork River in the early spring, then you know what heaven is like.

Watch A River Runs Through It, and you’ll get the idea. Our trip to Norfork was much more drama-free than the movie, but Robert Redford nailed the ending: a man standing alone in the shadow of the canyon casting out his line into the river with the hope that a fish will rise. Perfect. My introduction to fly fishing was this: A beautiful river, perfect weather, good friends, and plenty of trout. I was hooked from then on out. And over sixteen years later, I still find myself going to the woods.

The Woods

HDT writes it so perfectly. Go to the woods- there is no better advice that I can find either in life or death. Here is the most perfect line from Walden:

I have taken a one-month sabbatical from my professional life each year for the last three years. I connect more deeply with my family and friends, write, and retreat to the woods. The week before last (sorry for missing last week’s newsletter, by the way), I spent alone in the woods of Broken Bow. I have a cabin there on two acres of untouched pine. Deer roam freely in the mornings. The rain hits the tin roof in the springtime, dancing like a whirling dervish.

In the fall, the leaves melt into amber hues and earthy browns. I sit alone for hours, watching the wind blow into the pines. At night, a small fire keeps me warm, and a sky hangs above expansive and free. Each day, I fish. Just me. Alone on an expansive river. I’ll fish an entire stretch of the river. It takes about three to six hours, depending on the day, the weather, the area, and the trout.

Fly fishing is about rhythm and patience. It requires a little skill to get going and a lot to be good. You can fish solo or with friends. You can fish year-round. But the great part about it, for me, is the focus. It requires just enough mental acuity to keep my mind engaged but not dominated—just enough to keep me present in this moment but not all-consuming. Take a few deep breaths, wade into the water just a little, feel the current, and then cast out your line in the rhythm of the river. That’s it; that’s all it takes.

Euro-nymphing is my style of choice. I aim to get a tiny little nymph or midge down as deep into the channel as I can in hopes a fish will be hungry enough to bite. Hour after hour, I stand in a cool river, the water rushing between my legs as I cast my line out into blueish-green water. Focus, repetition, freedom, and then… it happens. A fish rises.

Now, I’m not one for trout as a meal, really, so I catch and release, and I take all the necessary precautions, treating the trout with respect and admiration as I release him back into the river. Conservation is a big part of fishing. Teaching others about the land, about the river. It’s not mine, it’s not ours, we don’t own it. We get to fish it, for now, anyway. I taught Henry and Ella to fish on the Lower Moutain Fork River in Broken Bow.

At the end of a great day on the river, I retreat to the cabin as night falls. With a cigar and whisky in hand, I look out into the darkness and reflect on my life in its entirety. I reflect on my childhood and old friendships. I think of the paths not taken in my life and of worlds that might have been. I dream of the future and fall in love with my wife and children all over again. I reflect on the many sunsets I’ve seen and foreign lands I have wandered. Alone in the darkness, I stare into the abyss. I feed my soul with poetry, and for a moment, I am mostly a happy boy… teaching his son to fish and going to the woods whenever possible.

The river pacifies me. Wants nothing from me. Needs nothing from me. Takes nothing from me. Demands nothing of me. The river has no memory. No past to confront me. No passion to push me. No drive to consume me. It is a force beyond me. Evergreen, Everstrong. Always flowing on. The river, for me, brings sweet serenity.

If you can, go to the woods. Go often and without regret. In the woods, we learn so much about our present selves and the future we hope to bring.

I hope you have enjoyed these thoughts for your self-examination. See you next week.

-CT

PS. Check out the podcast if you like to listen.

Unrelated Stuff and Things

Below you will find groups, projects, organizations, programs, and cabins I am passionate about and involved in. I hope it doesn’t come off as shameless self-promotion. All the same, they are important to me so I thought I would share. Feel free to skip them if you like.

Feeling Generous?

Counseling for the Future Foundation and Grant Halliburton Foundation are two amazing non-profits doing some great work in the field of Mental Health. You can help make a difference by giving your time, empathy, and financial support. Learn more by clicking the logos below.

A few things related to mental health:

Check out our latest mental health post on the TCG blog, and learn more about the Empifany app, the Titus Check-In System, and our newly developed Independently Strong course.

The Independently Strong course is designed specifically for spouses or partners who have experienced trauma or abuse within relationships with individuals struggling with substance use disorder. Covering topics such as trauma bonds, identifying characteristics of healthy relationships, understanding the impacts of unhealthy dynamics, boosting self-esteem to align decisions with personal values, establishing boundaries, engaging in self-awareness exercises, and delving into various other crucial aspects, this comprehensive program offers essential guidance and support for healing and empowerment. Learn more about the course here.

Need a Break?

We love going to Broken Bow. It has been a special place for me for a long time and it has been a dream to share this beautiful place with my kids. If you are interested in treating yourself to some relaxing away time up in the pines of Broken Bow feel free to book one of our cabins. There is no greater retreat than the woods.

Okay! That’s all I got. Feel free to send me an email. Anything I can do for you?