Hold the line.

It's opening fishing weekend in Seattle where anglers of all ages and skills will attempt to hold the line and reel in their catches. I've never loved fishing. I'd rather pet the fish and throw it back any day. My compassion for the little guy always outweighs the benefit of a meal. Yet this annual ritual got me thinking about the concept of "holding the line" and how it applies to our lives.

In fishing, holding the line means properly handling it when casting and reeling, especially when you have a fish at the end. In life, it's an idiom that means to firmly maintain one's viewpoint or principles despite pressure.

This got me reflecting on truths I’ve known but have been scared or unsure how to bring to the surface, like the truth behind why my marriage ended. Truth is layered and complex. Like a fish beneath the water, it’s not always easy to see. I’ve learned there are two kinds of truths: our personal truths that we see based on our experience and objective truths that exist whether we personally acknowledge them or not. Sometimes these align perfectly, but often they don't. 

These misaligned (often difficult) truths, like big fish, can easily slip away. It takes skill and patience to bring them to light, especially when they're fighting hard against being surfaced. Sometimes our compassion for others leads us to let go, allowing truth to hide into the depths.

The stories we tell ourselves can protect us from those harder truths. Like an angler convincing himself that a small catch is prize-worthy or that big fish that got away wasn’t worth fighting for, we rewrite narratives. Real growth comes from measuring our catches (or misses) against reality.

The reward can be profound when we bring truth into the open. Like a skilled angler, with persistence and proper technique, even the most elusive truths will eventually come to light, and may shape who we and others become. 

In my own journey after divorce, I've learned that "holding the line" isn’t just about standing firm. It's also about having the courage to confront difficult truths that resurface, even years later. It means not letting go, even when the line starts to dig into your hands, because what waits beneath the surface is worth the struggle.

Let this opening fishing weekend in Seattle remind you to ask: Are there truths you are pursuing or releasing? What lines might you want to hold? Some fish we catch and release. But some truths we need to bring all the way to shore, especially those that can bring healing and growth when faced directly.

It's up to you and me. Hold the line.