When I was a young boy, my Grandfather would go fishing a lot. He would come home on Friday night after work, come in and say hello, then get undressed from his standard business suit, and then suddenly he was gone. The truck would no longer be in the driveway. It was all preloaded and ready to go. Before the clock could hit 5:15 pm, he was already out the door and halfway up the mountain to a favorite fishing spot. Many times, I would try to catch him eager to go, and every once in a while, I would get the opportunity to ride along – but not very often.
Sometimes on the weekend, he would announce that he was going to go fishing out on the boat or something more elaborate. When he said this, you had to move. If you did not have your gear ready, clothes ready, and food ready, then he would be gone once again, and you would be left there with one shoe on and the other partially laced as you heard the truck pull out of the driveway. Eventually, we were all trained, including Grandma, to have all needful things ready to go so that no one would be left behind.
Fishing, to my Grandfather, was not necessarily a family bonding experience although it probably served that purpose occasionally. Fishing to him was his outlet. This was the way he reduced the stress of the week and allowed himself to relax and not find himself constantly immersed in his legal work. He could get out on the river, cast a few flies out and catch a few rainbows or perhaps the elusive cut throats. There would always be at least one or two browns.
He taught us all a lesson in this. Everyone needs an outlet. If you do not craft and cultivate your outlet then the stress will build and build and eventually crush you. Just like the old steam engine trains, you have to have a way to release pressure when it builds to much. If fly fishing is not your thing, then you can find something else. However, disregard the importance of an outlet at your peril. Sitting in your cave all day and working constantly with no way to relieve the strain means that you will snap and you will no longer be productive. I am speaking from experience here.
I will provide some advice on this topic. An outlet needs to have a hobby status. It cannot be obsession status or, even worse, addiction status. When your outlet becomes an excuse to avoid your responsibilities, then you are heaping worse problems on yourself, and the outlet is now serving as an obsession, and that is not good. It would help if you found something that is not easy enough to do, and it will distract you from your daily purpose. Fishing, for example, required my Grandfather to completely change clothes. Swap the briefcase for a creel. A bamboo fly rod for the pen. A small fly box was his only companion.
Early in my marriage the video game, Quake was popular. Young tech people thought they could add some ribbon bars to their insignia if they could get the most frags in an arena match. Not to be outmatched, I thought that it would be a good stress relief for me to work on my Quake playing skills in the evenings. My newlywed wife did not share the same sentiment. Her romantic ideals of starting a new life with her husband did not include watching him play first-person shooter games all night long. Soon enough, I found reasons to play this game even at work, and my stress relief now became a distraction and obsession.
Now I married well. My wife was not about going to stand for this nonsense. She lit into me hard, and pretty soon, I was facing the ultimatum. Fortress death matches, or my marriage. I chose wisely. This was NOT a good outlet for me. It was too close to my real job and was too easy to accomplish. Your outlet absolutely must require a definite transition in order to truly be an outlet. Thanks to my wife, I learned early not to develop destructive and time-sucking bad habits.
I have struggled with finding this outlet. I have tried many things and settled on a few for a while. Running has probably become that for me, as it took me a while to settle in. However running consumes time and is not always convenient. Running is more of a regular exercise thing that I enjoy, and it’s probably not the best outlet. What is strange is that my outlet has come from the most unlikely source. I disliked writing most of my life. I wanted to pretend I liked writing because that made me seem smart, but the reality is, I avoided the practice of writing wherever I could. What has happened is that I find the end of the day, or the weekend, is a great time for me to spend an hour or so writing.
Sometimes your outlet is good but hard to distinguish from normal activities. If this is the case, I recommend creating an environment where you perform that activity in a different way and space than your normal work. That way you create that transition that my Grandfather enjoyed so much. I think that sports would be a great idea. Golfing, bowling, soccer, whatever you can do in a club type format would be a perfect candidate. Boating is a good idea, but for me that has turned into a giant PITA. Usually causing more stress than it relieves. I am not the best person to talk to about candidate outlets. I tend to fill my life with complicated things, because I am a complicated person. I like things to be messed up and chaotic. This is where I thrive, so I suggest you talk to friends and family and find something that suits you.
Eventually, though, you will find something that fits. And that’s the key—your outlet needs to fit you. It doesn’t need to fit your grandfather, your spouse, or your best friend. You have to find what works for you, something that you can lose yourself in for a bit, something that allows you to reset, recalibrate, and return to your day-to-day with a clearer mind.
It took me years to realize that the pressure I was feeling wasn’t necessarily from my work itself but from my refusal to let myself escape from it, even for a little while. I thought that if I could just push through, I’d be more productive. But the opposite is true. The more I tried to white-knuckle my way through stress, the worse I performed.
I used to think that taking breaks was for the lazy or the unmotivated. That a real hustler, someone with ambition and drive, would work through the discomfort. But the truth is, without a release valve, even the most driven among us burn out. The same way my grandfather knew he needed to trade his suit for waders and his briefcase for a creel, I’ve learned that I need to step away, even when I think I don’t have the time.
It might not be as romantic as a mountain river or as glamorous as a high-stakes poker game, but writing has become my own personal version of casting flies. It’s a way to express thoughts, explore ideas, and organize the mental clutter that piles up throughout the day. It allows me to transition from the frenetic pace of life to a calmer, more introspective space.
And just like with fishing, writing takes patience. It’s a practice, not a product. Sometimes you catch something worthwhile—a thought or idea that feels significant—and other times, you come away empty-handed. But it’s the act itself that matters.
So here’s my final piece of advice: Don’t be afraid to experiment. Try different things until you find what sticks. Maybe it’s something physical, like running or cycling. Maybe it’s something creative, like painting or woodworking. Or maybe it’s something as simple as sitting quietly in a park, watching the world go by.
Whatever it is, remember that it’s for you. It’s your space, your time to unwind, to detach from the demands of the world for a little while. Like my grandfather racing up the mountain, you have to be ready when the moment comes. You have to know when to switch gears, step out of your routine, and embrace something that lets you breathe.
Because at the end of the day, it’s not just about having an outlet—it’s about making sure that outlet serves you, restores you, and helps you return to life more balanced and whole.
