Identity

If I were to pick one of my defining identities it wouldn't be 1) My occupation 2) My financial status 3) The size of my home 4) The vehicle I drive. For those distinctions are but just a fallacy, something that could disappear tomorrow with a simple twist of fate.
       The identities I treasure above all, are the ones that stay with you, through times of hardship, where 10 dollars looks like a million and times where $1000 dollars is irrelevant.
       My connection with nature is long standing. A friendship that has never turned it's back on me, that is there anytime I need it. In times of great happiness I've gone to my favorite spots of nature and relished my thankfulness. In times of great sorrow I've cried my tears into her rivers and land, poured my soul out for answers. I've been asked before whom my best friend is, I've tentatively given the answer of "nature" and eyebrows raise, questions arise. "How can that be?" they have asked?
       Edward Abbey once said. " I am an earthiest, I stand for what I stand on."
Reading that was a profound moment for someone like me, who stands in the middle of the road when spirituality is questioned. After yet another attempt at salvation on my soul from a good wishing friend I wrote this in my journal.........

Living in a space that doesn't conform
How many faiths turn around in the overtime......
The divine heavens
The grounded earth
Can't wander between the two I'm told
Show my respects to the heavens and the earth
For my spirituality is somewhere in between

       When I am fishing I find myself in a corridor of peace. A bubble if you may. My entire world can be crashing down around me outside of this space, but when I am there I am in peace. I flyfish year round. Wading in a river on a lovely summer afternoon, freezing in a near frozen river in the middle of December. The time of year is irrelevant to me. Just like writing, flyfishing is something I must do.
       I am lucky, here where I live. If time is an issue, and I cannot escape the confines of the city, there is a beautiful river that runs throughthe middle of town. I always have my flyfishing gear in my SUV and I mean ALWAYS.In good weather on a bad day for me, you can find me fishing down at the river, business suit and all. I imagine and have been told by passerby's what a strange oddity I make, while fishing with my heals tossed on the river bank. Clients will call and I'll answer my cell phone and explain I'm standing by some waterfall outside a business. I figure they don't need to know I'm fishing as long as I'm tending to their needs!
       I observe my flyfishing as an art. I was lucky enough to have an amazing man teach this fine art once. Actually he taught me in an unconventional way, but taught me nontheless. His instruction was priceless. Possibly only another flyfishing comrade could understand this meaning. It is a process, it takes time, learning, understanding and years to attempt mastery. I flyfish for tiny little brook trout and enormous stealhead and receive equal enjoyment from both. I normally catch and release unless it is time for a fantastic trout dinner. I am not opposed to killing what I admire. It is a mutual respect I tenaciously protect. It's all part of the agreement, between nature and I. Take what I need, respect what is given.
       I've had the pleasure of debating my flyfishing and hunting to others that feel this is wrong. It's a perspective that is engaged on two different levels. My respect and admiration for these animals and fish I "hunt" is held to a level in my soul with the deepest appreciation. I've found it is hard to explain this type of honor and respect. I've been asked how I can hold an Elk, wapiti, as a personal totem, yet kill one. Again, it comes back to appreciation, respect and honor.

       Identity can be found on so many levels. When I strip away the superficial I find myself left with a handful of identities. Earthiest is one that I feel at peace with, a comfort of sorts. One that I don't have to doubt or question, for it has always been with me and as long as I can walk out a door, it will always be there for me.

Let my tears of happiness and of sorrow
Flood my own Lake
So that one day I may look upon it's deep waters
To see where I've come from
Rebecca

Question for anyone taking the time to read this........Have you defined the things that identify you? Just something to think about............