I hadn’t taken a real vacation in eight years.
Not a long weekend. Not a few days pretending not to check email. Eight years without fully stepping away.
I had taken on a role that meant building a production base from scratch and introducing a new brand to the U.S. market. The kind of work where everything feels fragile—where it seems like if you step away, even briefly, things might wobble or fall apart.
Work slowly stopped being just work. It became stress, obsession, and identity all tangled together.
So when a friend asked if I wanted to go fly fishing out West for a full week, my first reaction wasn’t excitement.
It was resistance.
I felt like I couldn’t leave..
A PLACE THAT ALWAYS FEELS LIKE HOME
That resistance didn’t come from the destination.
Wyoming, Montana, and Idaho have always felt like home to me in a way that’s hard to explain. My first trip to the region was back in 1991, when I was 26 years old. I went on a seven-day elk hunt with my stepdad—deep winter conditions, temperatures dropping to fifteen below zero at times.
I was lucky enough to fill my tag on the last day.
Riding back to camp on horseback at dusk, after everything the week had demanded, I remember feeling something I still can’t fully put words to. A deep sense of familiarity. Almost like I had been there before.
I don’t believe in reincarnation—but that’s the closest comparison I have.
- Stick to posting schedules that work
- Giveaways are a great way to get people into your community
- Look into your insights to see when your audience is active on Instagram
- Always be clear on what your CTA is
Since then, that part of the world has always carried that same feeling for me. If I could choose anywhere to spend time outdoors, especially on the water, that region would be it.
I expected being there to feel grounding. Restorative.
Instead, by day two, I was frustrated. Irritated. Mad.
And that didn’t line up with the picture I had in my head.
Viverra aliquet eget sit amet. At ultrices mi tempus imperdiet nulla. Arcu dui vivamus arcu felis bibendum ut. Arcu cursus euismod quis viverra nibh. Cursus vitae congue mauris rhoncus. Faucibus ornare suspendisse sed nisi lacus sed viverra.
John Doe
OUT OF PRACTICE, OUT OF SYNC
- Remain Top of Mind
- Be Seen to Sell
- Learn Something New
I knew the facts.
I hadn’t fished in years. I was rusty. Western rivers are different from East Coast streams—bigger water, longer casts, different fish behavior. They require a different approach, and I had plenty to learn.
None of that surprised me.
What surprised me was my reaction.
The impatience. The edge. How quickly small mistakes stacked into real frustration. Standing there in a river thirty miles into the Wyoming backcountry, I found myself in a quiet internal meltdown over things that—on paper—didn’t matter all that much.
Missed casts. Poor timing. Slow knots.
And then, for the first time, I actually noticed it happening.
WHEN YOU STOP LONG ENOUGH TO NOTICE
I physically stopped moving.
Mid-stream. Cold water pressing against my legs. Mountains in every direction.
And I thought:
You’re in a river, in one of your favorite places in the world, fly fishing… and you’re angry. Get a grip.
That was the blind spot lifting.
Nothing was wrong with the place.
Nothing was wrong with the fishing.
Nothing was even wrong with the learning curve. The problem had come with me.
PATIENCE INS’T SITUATIONAL
That’s when it became clear that patience isn’t something you earn by changing scenery. It isn’t a reward you unlock once work calms down or conditions improve.
It’s something you practice—or don’t—wherever you are.
The same impatience shaped by deadlines, pressure, and constant responsibility had simply followed me into the river. Different setting. Same reflex.
Working on patience and perspective wasn’t a work problem. It was a me problem.
A LESSON THAT STAYED
That moment happened years ago, but it stayed with me.
Not because fly fishing fixed anything—but because it created just enough space for awareness to break through the noise.
Sometimes the most valuable thing a new frontier offers isn’t success or escape.
It’s a mirror.
FINAL CAST
Patience doesn’t arrive when conditions are perfect.
It shows up when you finally notice yourself standing still.
WHAT ABOUT YOU?
Have you ever found yourself frustrated in a place—or moment—you expected to feel grateful for?
I’d love to hear that story.
