Hmmm...I've loved to fish since before I caught my 1st trout, which I remember well, in 1953...pautzkes egg and a solid glass rod, about 4 feet long. A few Ca guys know where Tunnel Creek comes into Shaver Lake and that was the spot. My little forked stick (rod rest) may still be there.
Fishing/camping was the only time my dysfunctional family was at peace and I took that to heart.
Athletes talk about being "in the zone" and fly fishing let's me get into a personal space like that. There's only me, the water, the fish, the quest for the perfect drift...there's a rhythm and cadence to it that I find soothing. Hours pass without notice. Pain and fatigue, stress and concern all melt away in the total relaxed concentration that on rare occasions allows you to sense a hit just before it happens...because everything is perfect and the fish is there.
sorry....don't get me started. -Mike