I caught a fish when I was kid, in a stocked pond. I think it was at the Izaak Walton League. I took it home and put it into a can of water. My dad said to stir the water with my finger so there would be enough oxygen for the fish. I figured that it wasn't much good having a fish in a can of water that I had to stir with my finger so I decided to let the fish go. We walked a block or so to the St. Joseph River and I emptied the can into the water. The fish sat there in the shallows for a moment, and then it was gone with that sort of metallic swoosh sound that water makes. I wondered a bit if it was happier in the river than it had been in the pond. There probably wasn't much chance of it getting caught again living in the river. A few people fished in there, not many. You could catch carp. Carp is a bottom feeding fish, not much good to eat because what it eats isn't so tasty. That fish I caught, it would have the run of a river but would there be as much for it to eat? I didn't know if they fed the fish in the pond. They might. Or maybe the fish fed each other. It's that kind of world, under the water. But the river was freer than the pond if having more space is being more free and if being in space that is not where it was planned for it to be is being more free. Of course that fish had not planned to live in the pond or to live in the river. But once in the river and seeing he was in the river, he decided to take to it. It was a good deal better than being in a can. I could let go of the fish, meaning my possession of it, because I had removed from man's hold a creature who had no particular connection to humanity except the need of some man to own the space and time of fish in general without caring about them on an individual basis. I had released it to a destiny more in keeping with a fish, to my way of thinking. Except of course I didn't consciously think any of that, which was appropriate at that stage of my life. Over complicated ideas don't make for a happy childhood. But what I have thought about from time to time was that instant just after I let it go, when the fish sat in the river for a moment, taking stock, and if it were human you could imagine the state of emotion he'd be experiencing. A kind of shock, maybe, because things that are trapped aren't used to getting out without some sort of repercussion. That moment is kind of like waiting for the axe to fall, a willingness to go along with whatever fate will deliver, whether it's a piece of cake or the knife that was brought along to cut it with. You have to cooperate to get hooked in the first place, I understand that. But that fish was hungry, and the worm looked awful good. It's not always easy to see what looks good that is going to get you hauled over the side of the boat and put in a can. That fish could not have been expected to understand that there's boats and people and fishing poles and lines and things that look like worms that aren't and a medium that you can't breathe in or move through so you flop around in it till someone gashes your mouth and hangs you from the side of the boat with a couple others so that all you can do is hang and stare at them and get used to the idea that you're not free anymore and never will be again. Big difference between that and being in the river. You may be hungry and scared and lost at times but you aren't hanging off the boat waiting for dinner time to come around.

From Refraction, A Play

Each moment
in eternity
a past, a now
a future breath

A fluttry suite
of fine compress
thy heart to swell
thy soul to dress

Boats spackle the harbor
below wallow grey
like statue'd dimension
of texturing clay

Constructed through man's
concupiscent enslave
Eluding bold siren's
unreasoning wave

That they be magenta
or sacrament pink
or blueberry banshee
or Iris' green wink

Is venturous artisan's
skillful consign
conscripting all vessels
in beauty's design

That your lips would envelop about me entire
Capsulate promise, redemption, desire
Gorge perfect passion in infinite kiss
Dazzling, frazzling raspberry bliss

The sun owns dignitary of brightness
yet vapor may dispatch with
cladding cloud all memory of light
till earth is befogged dream
where step and chance are one

Rather would I anneal to thy aurora
A gleaming steadfast
reliant not on distant orbit
but vision anointed and clarified
in love's molten persperation

The entire process of sprituality is of letting go. When Buddha sat under the tree he very likely used this. Something came up, he let it go. If he could not he inspected it till it released. Finally an idea came up he could not let go.

This idea of release is the boat one rides to the shore. The idea is also an acquisition! But the boat is necessary. Till it isn't. Methods of coming to understanding for oneself what release is and how to do it are plentiful. Some wlll "work" far better than others because most unfortunately have acquisition within them. Anything one MUST believe in in order to understand or operate a system of release is acquistion. Less is best. Help, though is useful. Most of us for technical reasons aren't quite ready to search completely on our own.

However, If you can find a tree, feel free to go for it.

The process of spiritual growth is the process of understanding. Everyone is constantly at the point of understanding.

It is like fishing in a stocked pond. One does not need a fancy fishing pole or even bait. All one needs to do is throw the hook in the water. The hook is the intention to understand. So long as you keep your hook in the water you will catch fish. The process is catch, release, catch release. Over time you catch bigger and bigger fish.
Then you catch you. Then bigger yous.

Trouble in the process is completely our not understanding. We are looking at something we chose to forget. So not only do we have to see it we must work through whatever it was that caused us to forget in the first place. This is not always pleasant as imagined failings and denials of self are often twined around these forgettings.

But so long as one dutifuilly keeps a line in the water, understanding will happen.

At some point it is likely to be well worth the hooks.