No fish will ever outweigh an epiphany. The fish will die, but the epiphany will live with you forever. Of course, the fish could be the very thing that caused the epiphany, and there needs to be a great deal of respect for that physical stimuli (and in this case, fish).

Over the past month I’ve battled symptoms similar of carpal tunnel syndrome, highly limiting my ability to work on my computer, play guitar/piano, and surf. These are all things that I love to do.

These symptoms will surely pass overtime, and I am confident that I will be back to a fully functional self soon. In the meantime, I’ve been able to deeply appreciate conversations, walks, and thought.

As an able bodied person, we pass through physical experiences on a millisecond time scale without consciously appreciating what we have. Whether it be our ability to turn our steering wheel in our car, paddle an extra stroke to catch a wave, or simply share our thoughts on a blog, it is easy to forget the physical subtle actions throughout our day that make our day, our day.

This experience has forced me to focus on those subtleties.

The physical stimulus is my inability to perform seemingly trivial activities, and the result is a great deal of respect for those who have physical limitations that live with them for a lifetime.

As a physical barrier is created, there is a momentum of thought that can be derived from that very physical barrier. In my pursuit of understanding the relationship between physical action and the legacy that follows by way of epiphanies, I wonder how we can create epiphanies without any physical action at all.

Many people refer to this as meditation.

Let your thoughts,
be your greatest catch.