By James Lank

Some of my fondest memories are of fishing with friends, family, and sometimes, alone. It doesn’t matter where I am fishing; whether it be up north at someone’s cottage, or out in BC fishing for 30-pound salmon, the effect it has on me has and will always be the same. When I cast out my line and break the glassy surface of the lake with my lure, I sit and wait for the largemouths to emerge from under the fallen trees, and take the bait. The joy of reeling in the fish, admiring my work, and successfully releasing, is almost unmatchable. But even when the fish spits the hook or my line breaks, there is no place I’d rather be. I believe that fishing can change your mindset for the better by making you clear your head and think solely in the moment.

Fishing alone is one of the best times for self-reflection. Watching the sunrise, casting off the swim dock as the mist rises from the lake, has always led to self-reflection. And as think to myself, slowly reeling in my line, I realized the power it has. On the contrary, I have also found the power of not reflecting, but more, not thinking at all. That sense of calmness, no distractions, and no worries has always been one of the best parts about fishing. To me, the effect of not really thinking at all puts me in a better mindset and I am able to think more clearly. It has the same effect as meditation, but there are no umms, ahhs, or strange music. The emptiness of my mind and the sharp but soft noise of my lure hitting the water is all I need be fully present in the moment and think clearly.

When I am fishing with other people, the effect is more or less the same. Fishing with friends almost always leads to the best discussions. No matter what the topic is, it will always be a sort of bonding experience. Watching the sunset, having a drink, and talking about life typically leads to a new joke being started, and the worries of school whisked away from my now empty mind. Whenever I go fishing, I always try to bring people along so that they can experience the same part of fishing I have been hooked on since I was a kid. The joy of fishing with other people can’t be described. Even if you only get no fish or only even a nibble, the day was a little slow but was still a tonne of fun. Fishing has taught me the importance of connecting with others, and getting away from the busy city life we all live in; both of which are very important to me.

I first learned to fish with my dad when I was 5. We were down in Florida, fishing off our neighbor’s pier. One of my earliest memories of fishing was falling off the stone wall with my Winnie the pooh rod, and being caught by the loop of my life jacket. Later that day I caught my first fish, it was a small snapper. When I was seven or eight, my dad taught me how to tie lure and put weights on it, something I haven’t forgotten since. Almost every year from then on, my dad and I have fished together. We go to the same campsite in Algonquin park, rent a canoe, and go fishing. There’s a fallen tree about a ten-minute paddle from the site, and around 6-7 am, the smallmouth practically hop in your boat. That has always been the highlight of my time fishing. From that experience, I have developed a belief that fishing with others can lead to lifelong memories and your mindset changed for the better; that is certainly the case for me.

Fishing has always been a time of reflection and peace for me. As I said earlier, fishing is almost like meditation, and that it puts me in that zoned state of mind. Standing on that dock, watching the sunrise, and thinking about absolutely nothing is something I always look forward to. I encourage everyone to find that dock, or whatever the equivalent may be, and just sit there and reflect, or just think about nothing. I promise you, it will do wonders.