Most Monday mornings, Andrew Wyslotsky goes fishing.
Wyslotsky is a chef in Winooski and an avid fly fisherman. He started fly fishing in 2020 when restaurant work slowed down during the pandemic, and it quickly became an essential part of managing his mental health.
“It grounds me,” he said while fishing in Bolton. “When I’m fishing, there’s nothing else in my head except for the water I’m standing in, the motion of my arm, and watching my line. That’s it, and it’s fantastic.”
This interview was produced for the ear. We highly recommend listening to the audio. We’ve also provided a transcript, which has been edited for length and clarity.
Andrew Wyslotsky: Hi, my name is Andrew Wyslotsky. I’m a Vermont resident and chef, and an avid fly fisherman. And I’m excited to be out here on the water today.
Fly fishing for me started probably March 2020, and it just changed everything. Any free time I have, this is what I want to be doing now. I really use it on my mental health journey, quite a bit. I’m bipolar, ADHD, and it just helps ground me.
"When I’m fishing, there’s nothing else in my head except for the water I’m standing in, the motion of my arm, and watching my line. That’s it, and it’s fantastic."Andrew Wyslotsky
My whole life, I’ve been, like, the biggest proponent of therapy, mental health services, everything. But I was also one of those people who was like, "I don’t need that, I’m fine." And I remember the moment I realized, like, "Maybe you should reach out to somebody, because this doesn’t feel OK."
I was at one of the restaurants, and got a phone call from the catering manager letting me know, "Oh, hey, we tacked on an event for tonight, and we have a tasting as well, just booked." And in that moment I’m just sitting there, like, "I don’t have any of this product. Why wasn’t this communicated? How am I going to pull this off in the next two hours?" I remember having those thoughts, and then opening my eyes and just being surrounded by broken coffee cups. I was like, "Oh, what happened?" And then realizing, I just smashed a bunch of coffee cups because I was mad.
So that’s when I realized, like, maybe I need to talk to somebody. This doesn’t feel like a measured response.
And I remember, like, not even my first therapy appointment, but just the doctor’s appointment where I brought up to my primary care, like, "Hey, I want to see a therapist." I got in my car and I was sobbing afterwards. My wife called me and was like, "Oh, how was it?" And then she could hear I was crying. And she was like, "Are you OK?" And I was like, "I'm incredible." Like, "I’m fixing this. I’m gonna find somebody to help me."
Everybody should go to therapy. It’s just been such a game changer. And having therapists teach me mindfulness, and being able to work that into my everyday life, like [fishing].
I’m just filling up my battery for the week when I come out here. If I don’t catch a fish, I don’t catch a fish, that’s fine. But I’m just gonna spend, you know, two hours flinging my arm back and forth, just thinking about the rhythm of that. When I’m fishing, there’s nothing else in my head except for the water I’m standing in, the motion of my arm, and watching my line. That’s it, and it’s fantastic. It’s incredible.
And nothing else matters. Like, we’re such tiny things in the world. Everything’s going to be fine.
This story comes from a collaboration between Vermont Public and the Community News Service, a University of Vermont journalism internship. Production support by Kelsey Tolchin-Kupferer.
