Unpacking My Obsessions

The Tangled Web of Quirky Passions

I have a confession to make: I’m obsessed with knots. Not the metaphorical, life-is-complicated kind (though I’ve tied a few of those in my time), but literal, make-your-eagle-scout-jealous knots. There’s something strangely satisfying about the perfect slip of paracord through a carabiner or the flash of recognition when I can whip out a bowline without hesitation. I didn’t set out to become the knot guy, but here I am, a grown man who carries a coil of cord in his bag just in case.

Maybe it started with my Boulder upbringing. When your teenage summers revolve around camping trips in the Rockies, knowing the difference between a clove hitch and a timber hitch isn’t optional—it’s survival. From there, my mild interest in functional ropework spiraled into (some might say) a full-blown fixation. And while you’d think hobbies like this peg me as “Guy Most Likely to Be Cast on a Survival Reality Show,” knots have also taught me some surprising lessons about relationships, too.

Allow me to explain, string by string.

Knot Lessons in Love

The Clove Hitch: Quick Connections

A clove hitch takes just seconds to tie. It’s brilliant when you need to secure something in a hurry—sturdy enough to hold firm, but easy to unravel when the time comes to move on. Kind of sounds like modern dating, doesn’t it?

In relationships, we all have our clove hitch connections. The ones that start strong, get you through a moment, but aren’t meant to last forever. My first post-college relationship comes to mind: we bonded over our shared love of Van Life YouTubers and picnics at trailheads. But when the novelty wore off, we unraveled as easily as a clove hitch under tension. And that’s okay. Not every bond is meant to hold for the long haul.

The takeaway? Quick connections aren’t failures—they’re stepping stones. When the knot has served its purpose, let it go guilt-free.

The Bowline: Your Trusty Companion

Ah, the bowline: the “king of knots,” as any hiker worth their boots will tell you. This one’s my favorite. It’s reliable, strong, and, with a little practice, effortless to tie. The bowline reminds me of the relationships that anchor us, the people we can depend on no matter what.

Take my best friend from college, Eric. We met during an overnight hiking trip sophomore year when he let me borrow a rain jacket. That jacket was neon orange—so un-Boulder it hurt—but his generosity stuck with me. Over the years, Eric has been the bowline in my life: ever dependable, unwavering, and there to hold things together when I’m fraying at the edges.

Whether it’s friendship or romance, bowlines remind us of this: some ties are worth perfecting. Practice them. Strengthen them. Check the rope occasionally to make sure it’s not wearing thin. The payoff—a lifelong bond—is more than worth it.

The Overhand Knot: Beware the Snags

Not all knots are dazzling. Case in point: the overhand knot, aka the most basic knot in existence. It’s how you start shoelaces, and it’s often the knot you accidentally create when that iPhone charger loops itself into chaos at the bottom of your bag.

Here’s the thing about the overhand knot: once you pull it too tight, it’s almost impossible to undo. In relationships, this can happen when we leave things unsaid or avoid resolving tension. Small miscommunications snowball into monumental misunderstandings. We play tug-of-war on opposite ends of the rope until the knot becomes so tight that the best solution is to cut it loose.

What I’ve learned? Don’t let tension fester. Address it before it becomes tangled and unmanageable. It’s not glamorous advice, but it’s the difference between finding peace and throwing the whole rope out.

A Bit More Rope (and Humility) to Spare

Of course, my knot obsession doesn’t stop there. I’ve embarrassed myself tying decorative Turks Head cuffs at brewery tables, annoyed countless hiking companions with impractical knot trivia, and once spent three hours watching YouTube tutorials for mastering the Alpine Butterfly Loop (look it up; it’s shockingly satisfying).

And as ridiculous as it might sound, knots have become a framework through which I’ve learned more about myself—where I cling too tightly, where I let go too easily, and how I’m always seeking to strengthen the balance between flexibility and strength.

The Moral of the Cord

Maybe you’re not into knots (and honestly, that’s valid). Maybe you collect vinyl records, nurture an indoor jungle of houseplants, or spend your Sunday mornings fine-tuning sourdough starters. Whatever quirky obsession has taken root in your life, it’s worth a second look. Hobbies, after all, aren’t just pastimes—they’re weird little mirrors, reflecting our values, fears, and strategies for navigating the world.

So, embrace your quirks. Lean fully into the hobby that makes your friends roll their eyes. And maybe, just maybe, those passions will surprise you by tying themselves into every other part of your life—including your relationships.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a new hitch to master.