Eggs, bacon, and coffee have become our morning ritual. A routine that includes relaxation, conversation, and many new ideas. We treasure each morning like this, each over-burnt bacon strip, each kind-of-dirty plate, because breakfast was not always like this. Breakfast was not in the thesaurus of life’s pleasantries, nor classified as the day’s most important meal.
A little over one year ago, my mornings habits of consumption involved a granola bar being stuffed into my bag as I stumbled out the door of my Brooklyn apartment. As I walked, spare shoes would topple out and my phone would rhythmically buzz with alerts of new emails. Exiting the building to the sidewalk, trucks and cars would speed by and their momentary presence would disperse the garbage smells up to my nose. It was as though a giant hand would aggressively waft the aromas in my direction at steady intervals. From door to street corner, the emails would persist, and my eyes would flicker from screen to surroundings in practiced staccatos, looking up just long enough to avoid obstacles as I walked at an almost-run. The granola bar sat in my bag pocket. Maybe I could eat it on the subway. The G train platform generally smelled like pee, so that wasn’t always optimal. If the car wasn’t too crowded, and if I had managed to not touch too many surfaces, it could sometimes could be gobbled then. But more often than not, the train was packed sardine-style and the bar would remain uneaten and unloved. At the connecting stop, I would awkwardly walk-run a half mile to the platform where my next magic pumpkin awaited. Every manner of frazzled, annoyed, bag-laden, under-the-gun person congregated there. A full-body cast did not deem you exempt from the violent shoving match that ensued each and every morning. Push by push, the bar got slightly more squished as my hands were needed for the more pressing task of preventing my death-by-trampling. After three more stops and two flights of stairs, I would sometimes chow down on my 11-block power walk to the office-building’s giant foyer. Because that’s healthy, right? At my peak, I was estimating about 1 email read every two blocks which did not always leave time for snacking. It would have to wait until I reached my desk…
There comes a point in those hungry moments when your legs go weak, and your mind can’t stop formulating to-do lists and the email notifications are coming in faster than you can even delete them. It’s a point where you’re perpetually late and the clouds of your brain clear for a second to think…there must be another way. There must be a way to sit down with the person I love for just a few minutes in the morning and see how they’re doing and maybe, just maybe, hear that sizzle of bacon grease.
It’s that moment of hunger - when you still have one mile, three stops, and 16 floors left until your day officially begins - that the mind starts to think new thoughts.
I don’t have to do this. I chose this and I can choose something else.
And that’s what happened. I chose something else. These tin plates of love-doused food would not have been cooked over a camp fire in the Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho by my boyfriend before a breathtaking hike in the middle of a 5-month road trip had I not decided a year ago that I no longer wanted granola bars and emails for breakfast.
someone once told me to always live for the little things in life. live for 5am sunrises and 5pm sunsets where you’ll see colours in the sky that don’t usually belong. live for road trips and bike rides with music in your ears and the wind in your hair. live for days when you’re surrounded by your favorite people who make you realise that the world is not a cold, harsh place. live for the little things because they’ll make you realise that this is what life is about, this is what it means to be alive.
Beautiful enough to hang on your wall, but too good to stay there.
Here’s a little more about the origin of the axe from the people of United By Blue…The Axe:
A serious camping axe with a story that starts in North Carolina. In 1886 John Picket Council started a tool manufacturing company with a focus on quality and innovation. Manufacturing exclusively out of their US headquarters, Council Tool is still family owned and continues to make some of the best axes in the world. The Explorers Axe features a solid hickory wood handle with a 2 lb. Hudson Bay-style axe head perfect for splitting, chopping, or driving in tent pegs.
The designs painted on the axe handles were each designed by our True Explorers - a group of photographers, makers, and travelers who appreciate the outdoors and understand the importance of preserving it for future generations. From California, Rhode Island, Pennsylvania, Indiana, and British Columbia, each design was inspired by the colors and shapes of the landscape that these explorers spend their time enjoying.
The handles are each individually painted by hand here in our home city of Philadelphia. A city know for its manufacturing past, Philly is filled with old brick buildings with faded signs that were hand painted back in the early 1900s. Christian Cantiello, owner of Keystone Sign Co., paints each axe handle individually with a multi-step process that give the handle a beautiful yet durable finish.
$10 off your purchase of any axe at United By Blue today and tomorrow (Dec. 20 & 21) with the code SHEAAXE