A lot of life has happened in the last few years. Mostly all good things, this side of the craziness of Covid. My three boys are married now. We have two grandbabies. The company I work for has doubled in size. And the wife and I are adjusting, nicely I think, to life as empty nesters.
Fishing never disappeared during all of that. I’ve had the privilege of taking a couple of bucket-list trips — the Ness River in Scotland and the Norwegian Sea in Norway. But locally, I’ve fished less. And I haven’t picked up a camera and hit record when I did go out to the lake because I was just looking for some peace of mind. If I caught a fish great, if I didn’t, it still brought stillness and calm to my soul being out on the water.
I wouldn’t say I’m in a slow season now, but I’ve slowed enough recently that all things Get Out Fishing have started swirling around in my brain and I find it consuming my thoughts. The question most plaguing me is this one: What exactly is Get Out Fishing? Probably a simple question on the surface. It’s a website. A YouTube channel. A small online store. And a place where I share fishing tips, tell fishing stories, and offer gear recommendations. But the more and more I thought about it, the more I realized that none of those answers felt complete. They’re true, but they don’t quite get to the heart of it for me.
For a while now I’ve been trying to figure out where this whole thing is headed. Like many people who create things online, I’ve looked at different ideas. More videos. More products. More content. More traffic. None of those are bad things, but fishing itself is something much bigger than that for me. It’s about friendship, memories, deep conversations that only happened because two people spent a few quiet hours in a boat together. It’s a place where discipleship can happen unhindered and unhurried. On the water, in God’s beautiful creation, I find myself a student of the Master. Some of God’s most important reminders have come while I was sitting quietly in His creation.
Fishing has given me far more than fish. It’s given me perspective. I suppose that’s why I’ve struggled to define Get Out Fishing. It’s never really been about catching fish. At least not entirely. Don’t get me wrong. I love catching fish. I still enjoy talking about techniques, gear, and finding fish. Those things aren’t going anywhere. But the deeper reason I keep coming back to fishing is because of what happens to me when I get out there.
I slow down.
I pay attention.
I reconnect with people I care about.
I breathe.
Maybe that’s why the phrase “Get Out Fishing” has always resonated with me. It’s not a command to catch more fish. It’s an invitation. An invitation to step away from the noise for a while. To spend time outdoors. To make memories. To think. To reflect. To enjoy God’s creation. To simply be present.
Looking ahead, I suspect you’ll still find plenty of fishing tips, stories, gear reviews, and adventures here. But I also think you’ll find something more. Possibly more blog posts about the lessons fishing teaches and reminders that some of life’s most important truth’s are often learned at a slower pace. The types of stories and lessons that stay with you long after the trip is over.
I’m still figuring out where Get Out Fishing is headed. Maybe that’s part of the journey too. But I know this much: some of the best things fishing has given me had nothing to do with fish. And maybe that’s the point. Maybe it was never about the fish.
