Skip to main content

Fishing for an Idea

In this episode, Fishing for an Idea . . .

 

“He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone for eighty-four days now without taking a fish.”

No, no, this is not the Gulf it's the Au Sable River .  . . .

Smell - the crisp scent of the northern pines.

Focus - this is your enlightened creative self-expression talking. Place your inspired future front and center in your life.

Listen - can you hear the soft gurgling sound of running water? Cast your fly-rod into that swirling pool. There’s an idea there.

Wake-up!

Your eyelids flicker then instantly your eyes pop open. The clock on the dresser says 4:00 a.m. In a semi-consciousness state, you stumble out of bed. You make your way, in the dark, to that little room where the world has absolved you of all obligations to communicate with another human being. Privacy.

Face-it, we all do it - scattered thoughts as we talk to ourselves in our minds, especially when we’re dreaming.

Well, now that you're up - have a cup of coffee. One sugar and a little milk please Junior. Who am I talking to? Shaking your head, you realize, no one in their right mind is up this early, go back to bed. Right Junior?

The cat is sitting next to the refrigerator watching your every move.

You’re awake!

Your brain has already kicked into high gear. Thoughts exploding as bright white flashes. Words. Ideas. Stories. Suggestions. Information overload. Maybe it’s panic.

Or is it just the way I fish? Call it a habit, call it quirky, call it idiotic - but call it.

Early morning, when the house is quiet, is my most productive time. Deep down, in some peculiar way, we all know what our most creative time is. That special time of day when your gifts, skills, temperament, and experiences collide to synthesize ideas that've been churning in your brain. Put it to paper. Create something from nothing.

Huh, that begs the question, What is writing?

It's how I capture my creative ideas!

If the definition is, one who is paid to produce works that derive income or royalties, my answer to that is a resounding No.

However, if it's someone who every morning parks their hind-side at a desk and taps away at a keyboard attempting to clarify their thinking, improve written communication skills, synthesize experiences and knowledge, I emphatically say, Yes. I’ll leave it up to you, the listener to make your own assessment.

Ultimately it all comes down to fishing for your ideal lifestyle.

Let’s assume for just 60 seconds, all the tumblers in the universe align. You can picture in your mind's eye the work in which you would best shine. Why, because it taps into the best of who you are. The place where your gifts, skills, temperament, and experiences collide. Good luck!

Like The Old Man and the Sea, it’s obvious I need to get back to my fishing expedition. My creative journey for a fulling life, not work but my unique adventure.

Hah, maybe, I just need to take a nap and dream.

This is Patrick Ball, thanks for listening. See you in the next episode.

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

The Compass of Cuba: Mom

🎄  Preview of this week's  On the Fly  blog: A Holiday Tribute to Mom. As the holidays hustle with pixels and beeps, the world scrolls along in a smartphone-y sleep. I log off for a moment—just one little minute— To breathe in the past and to sit myself in it. My mind doesn’t wander to faraway places, Or trips full of tickets and new airport faces. Instead, it drifts backward, as memories do, to Cuba, Illinois, where the best moments grew. To a home full of warmth, in the wintry Midwest, Where my mother—dear “Marcie”—put love to the test. With a smile that could melt the most frigid of dawns, and hugs that hung on you like shivering fawns. She came from La Rochelle in France, brave and bright, Across oceans and war shadows, into new light. A town full of strangers soon felt like her own, And her courage built up the foundation of home. “Oh yes, we know Marcie!” the locals would say— “It's Doc Ball’s French lady! She brightens the day!” She cleaned, and she cooked, and sh...

Feeling Human Again

In this episode, The Unexpected Thankfulness of Feeling Human Again I’ll be honest with you: My triumphant return from France was not the glamorous homecoming I had imagined. No graceful glide back into routine. No cinematic jet-setter moment where I lift my suitcase off the carousel and wink at life like we’re old pals. Instead? I came home and immediately launched into a two-week performance piece titled The Great American Couch Collapse. My days blurred together in a haze of soup, hot tea, tissues, and desperate negotiations with the universe for just one nostril—one!—to function properly. The living room sofa became my emotional support furniture. And any creative idea that dared tiptoe into my congested brain was gently shown the exit with a firm but courteous, “Not today, friend. Try again later.” When life hits the pause button like that—when you’re exhausted, sick, and mentally unplugged—how do you find your spark again? Somehow, today, I felt it. A tiny shift. A clearing of th...

Patience: the Only First-Class Ticket

In this episode, Patience: the Only First-Class Ticket They say travel broadens the mind. After eight days sailing the Rhône with 140 fellow luxury vacationers, I can confirm it also tests patience , calf strength, buffet strategy, and one's tolerance for people furious that France insists on being French. Don't get me wrong—I adored this trip. The river shimmered like liquid optimism. The villages looked hand-painted. The pastries could negotiate world peace. But somewhere between Ship Horn Hello and Bon Voyage, we'd inadvertently boarded a floating behavioral research study disguised as a holiday. Our ship was less a cruise and more a ferry for the Sailors of Status. Some passengers approached relaxation like yogis. Others treated leisure like a final exam with extra credit. I came to believe certain luxury watches emit ultrasonic signals that only their owners can detect. A frequency calibrated to trigger rapid movement toward any line forming for any reason. I saw more ...

A Holiday Reflection–Mother's Love

In this episode,  How a Mother’s Love Built My Memories– A Holiday Reflection As this holiday season approaches and the world buzzes with shopping, planning, and busy schedules, I find myself embracing something wonderfully simple: taking a moment to pause. Not to check off a list or recharge devices, but to breathe deeply, remember fondly, and honor the person and place that have shaped my sense of home long before I had the words for it. This year, after regaining my strength from a lingering post-travel fog, my mind didn’t wander to exotic destinations or future adventures. It drifted backward—across oceans and time—to Cuba, Illinois, in the early 1960s, and to the woman whose love built the foundation of my world: Mauricette Elaine (Bontemps) Ball. My Mom . We came to Cuba after leaving La Rochelle, France, in 1959—a transition so dramatic I only appreciate its enormity now. My mother, barely in her mid-twenties, stepped off that plane and into the Midwest with a courage that s...