Trading is like fishing. Imagine it. It's five in the morning, the lake is as smooth as glass. You stand on the shore, the mist skimming the water. There are fish underwater, big fish. The kind that could feed your family for weeks. What's the worst thing to do at this moment? Jump in and start chasing. Splashing around like a madman, swimming wildly, grabbing haphazardly, hoping a fish will bump into your hand. It sounds absurd. Trading is even more absurd, because people do it every day. The moment they open a chart, many people start "diving." Anxiety, hunger, the desire for a big win—fingers frantically press orders. The market senses it; the more anxious you are, the slipperier it becomes. You can't control the fish. You can't command it to bite. You can't negotiate with it. You can't force it to appear before you. Fish operate according to their own world: water temperature, season, current, hunger, and intuition. The market follows the same set of rules. You can't control where prices go. You can't control when fluctuations occur. You can't control breaking news. You can't control the flow of large sums of money. You can't control how quickly emotions spread. You can't change any price action with "I really need it." The only thing you can control is a list. What can an angler control? Rod, bait, casting location, arrival time, lake conditions research, hook strength, and line strength. That concludes here. Trading is also about the same list: • Your strategy • Your risk management • Your position size • Your entry conditions • Your exit conditions • Your trading time • The asset you trade • The risk you're willing to take on each trade • Your emotional state at the moment you press the button • Have you backtested? • Do you understand the assets you're trading? Many people spend 90% of their attention watching "where the market will go." That's like standing on the lake and trying to summon fish with your mind. ————— A professional angler views a lake like a map A novice sees every body of water as the same. An experienced angler sees a lake with a mental navigation system: undercurrents, vegetation, structure, fish paths, thermoclines. He doesn't rely on random luck. He relies on precise positioning. What's the positioning in trading called? It's called liquidity. It's called structure. It's called where orders converge. It's called where a bunch of people will place stop-loss orders. It's called where people will flock in to chase the breakout. It's called where the price will naturally be drawn in, because there's money waiting there. What you need to learn isn't "guessing the direction." What you need to learn is "knowing where the fish are usually." ⸻ Watching a truly skilled angler will leave you somewhat disappointed. He barely moves. Cast. Wait. Reel in. Cast again. Wait again. No drama, no performance, no emotional climax. The top traders are the same. You might think he's making fifty trades a day, gritting his teeth in front of the screen, like he's fighting a war. He actually has a list. He executes the trade if the conditions are met, and shuts it down if they aren't. This state has a name: emotional neutrality. What he cares about is "whether the process was done correctly." He detaches his self-worth from individual wins and losses. A single perfect execution has little impact. A hundred perfect executions have a huge impact. ⸻ Some fish will get away; that's perfectly normal. Fishing inevitably involves: a bite, a pull, nearing the shore, and then getting off the hook. What does an experienced fish do? He analyzes the reason, notes it down, and casts the same way on the next cast. Trading is the same. You take what the market gives you. Even the best setup can lose. Even the most perfect entry can be wiped out. You can make every step perfectly, and still end up losing money. This doesn't mean you're bad. It means you're living in a world of probability. Let's say your win rate is 60%. The meaning is straightforward: out of every 10 trades, you'll lose 4. Those 4 losses are reasonable anywhere, even consecutively. Losers have a place in the system. That's the cost. That's evidence that you're "actually fishing." What you really need to do is: fix the risk, fix the process, fix the record. Accumulate data and experience. ⸻ Some days, the lake just doesn't bite. It's common for anglers to sit for eight hours and go home empty-handed. Incorrect water temperature, incorrect air pressure, fish not biting, too many boats, wrong season. There are many reasons, but only one result: zero profit. Trading also has zero-opportunity days. What truly ruins an account is usually not a major market move, but rather "forced trading." You stare at the charts, feeling you should trade. You start looking for setup B. Then you look for setup C. You start justifying your entry: today's volatility is high, I have the time, everyone's moving, it would be a shame to miss out. At that moment, you've already jumped in. My own approach is simple: I include "no-trading days" in my trading log, treating them as tasks to complete. Because every trade you don't force protects you. The market offers you opportunities to make mistakes every day; avoiding them is a skill. You can sit quietly for a session, without placing any orders, and still feel calm. That's what makes someone qualified for long-term stability. ⸻ Refine yourself. In a serious fishing community, if you ask someone what they fish for, their answer will be clear: sea bass, trout, swordfish, and catfish. They've mastered one species to an extremely high level. Trading also requires specialization. One market. One timeframe. One setup. One execution framework. You want to trade stocks, crypto, forex, futures, and options simultaneously. You want to do short-term trading, swing trading, and investment simultaneously. You'll gain one thing: fragments of experience. Finally, watch less of everything on CT; it's all noise, including me.