Given this, the man now finds that he has a lot of spare time on his hands. So he decides to devote himself to the love of his youth—fishing! Campbell writes, “He equips himself with a considerable amount of ritual gear, certain kinds of hats, rods (‘you mustn’t call it a pole, this is a rod’), silver doctors, and all kinds of flies that he’s stuffed into his hat, and fine; the old man, he’s got it all now. Let him have what he likes, let him go; he’s got a hunting lodge and all that.”

This sounds frightfully like my tack room.

Campbell continues, “So what’s he doing? He’s fishing; that’s what he was doing the last time he loved something, when he was 12 years old.”

I loved riding more than anything when I was 12. Still do.

“And what does he pull up?” Campbell asks. “Fish.”

Campbell is on a roll now—

“And what was he unconsciously waiting for? Mermaids!”

I wonder if each time I ride my horse, I’m secretly looking for Pegasus? Are you? I have a hunch that’s where equestrian vaulting comes in …

Flickr photo credits: surrealist