Broke my knife while whittling, threw it in the bushes, came back with a lesson
I had to do it. Yes it's clickbait, but it happened. I broke my knife.
Modern life if training us to think first, do later, feel never. Whittling is teaching me to run it backwards. And three knives later, I'm starting to get it.
Top one I carved last night before bed, just something to cool my brain down with what I had at home. I wanted to try something new, and it shows I had no idea what I was doing. But I got some good feedback.
This morning I woke up early, went out for a walk with the idea of building a bigger and better knife. Turns out walking with a purpose like that is its own kind of meditation. Scanning the ground, picking sticks up, weighing them, smelling them. Probably I was looking like an idiot from the outside but who cares, inside I felt something in between a farmer and a hunter.I found a good stick, started carving knife number two. Halfway in, the blade snapped in teh middle. I got angry, threw it without thinking, started the third one right away.
Third one came out great. Smooth, bigger, sharper edge and tip. Basically made myself a fidget toy without planning to. As I was doing the final touch ups, I realized, what's the difference really? Both are mine. Like two sons, can't pick one over the other. Went back to find the broken pieces. Found the blade, couldn't find the handle anywhere. I'm keeping the blade as a souvenir. It felt wrong to throw it away.
I started whittling as an outdoor hobby and I intend to keep it that way. My work is mostly a desk job, and modern life is mostly screens anyway, the only tactile feedback we get is the click of a mouse and aiming to touch pixels on a glass screen. Whittling is the complete opposite. It's a sensory circus. Touching a smooth surface feels great, a tiny splinter hurts like a bitch. Every branch has its own grain, the knife demands respect and intense focus, every tiny cut works the whole brain. And the part I love most, it gives me permission to stop chasing perfection. For once in my life I'm genuinely bad at something and enjoying it with everything I've got.
Honestly, even writing this post is part of the whole thing. But the order matters. First I did it, then I felt it, and only now I'm sitting down to intellectualize it. Turns out that's how we're supposed to live. Not researching the perfect knife for three weeks, blocking a calendar slot, watching tutorials, buying gear, building expectations sky high before we even picking up a single stick.
Repeat after me: there are many knives like this, but this one is mine.