The Things I Can’t Live Without

Some people have their must-haves for survival: a decent cup of coffee, a comfy hoodie, or that one streaming service they’d take to a deserted island. For me, my essentials are about connection and rituals that ground me in the chaos of modern life—or, at the very least, keep me from turning into that guy muttering to himself in the organic produce aisle (although, let’s be honest, I’m dangerously close sometimes).

Here’s my personal lineup of things I can’t live without—things that have weathered my highs, my lows, and that one ill-fated attempt to grow a handlebar mustache. (Spoiler: It didn’t bring nearly the charisma the internet promised.)

1. My Morning Hike Ritual

Listen, I know “I love hiking” sounds like a painfully Boulder cliché, but hear me out. Growing up in the shadows of the Flatirons means nature isn’t just scenery—it's therapy. Every morning, I lace up my (worn) trail runners and hit the nearest dirt path for an hour. It's where I clear my head, rehash awkward-date conversations I wish I'd steered differently, or just breathe in oxygen that doesn’t smell like yesterday’s takeout.

But it's more than exercise; it’s about connection. There’s something grounding about watching the sun light up the mountains, reminding you that life, like the Rockies, isn’t always perfect, but damn, it’s beautiful. Bonus: A brisk hike beats any filter when it comes to that dubious “post-hike glow” selfie you’re about to send that cute someone.

Takeaway: Find your version of this anchor. It doesn’t have to involve elevation changes—maybe it’s morning yoga, or journaling with coffee. Whatever it is, let the ritual be your reset.

2. The Perfect Camp Mug

You haven’t known love until you’ve found the right camp mug. Mine is enamel, has a chip on the rim from that windy camping trip in Moab, and keeps my coffee hot long enough for me to miss three emails. Romantic? No. Functional? Yes. And, in its own small way, grounding.

This scratched-and-battered mug has held everything from cheap gas station tea to celebratory whiskey while trying (and failing) to assemble Ikea furniture. It’s also the kind of item that sparks conversations when someone catches me using it—proof that even weathered objects can inspire connection.

Pro tip: Bring your camp mug on dates. Maybe not the first date (unless they, too, scream “REI Rewards Member vibes”), but later. Who knows? It might reveal more about you than any dating profile ever could.

3. Books With Dog-Eared Pages and Coffee Stains

I don’t trust a bookshelf filled with pristine spines. Books should look lived in, like they’ve been hauled to bad beach dates or cracked open during a layover in Denver. My personal collection includes Edward Abbey’s grumblings about nature, Terry Tempest Williams’ graceful reflections, and that one ridiculous mystery novel I refuse to part with because it reminds me of sophomore-year heartbreak.

Books aren’t just storytelling—sometimes, they’re memory capsules. Like the time I loaned a copy of “Desert Solitaire” to someone who ghosted me but left Post-its in the margins before dipping. (Yes, I kept the annotations. No, I don’t regret it.) Stories often become part of our own, which is why I’ll pick paper over pixels every single time.

Hot Take: Books also make stellar date-night conversation starters. Next time you invite someone over, strategically leave one with a weird title on your coffee table. You’re welcome.

4. The Redwood Blanket That’s a Hug in Textile Form

We all have that one item that’s more emotional support than object. Mine’s a red-and-gray wool blanket that I picked up on a road trip through Northern California. It’s survived many things: late-night breakups, literal camping disasters, and one sophomore-year party where everyone seemed very insistent on spilling IPAs.

This blanket reminds me of those towering redwoods, the feeling of being small but okay with it. Throw it over your couch, use it as a picnic mat, or wrap yourself in it while you ugly-cry during a rom-com marathon. I promise—it’s cheaper and softer than existential dread.

Pro tip for relationships: Never underestimate the power of a shared blanket. Netflix and chill? No. Redwood blanket and actually chill? Yes.

5. Live Music, Trees Optional

If you ever find yourself in a Colorado meadow at golden hour, surrounded by string lights and The Lumineers playing in the background, understand this: I have achieved nirvana. Live music, especially outdoors, is my north star. It’s where I’ve lost myself, found myself, and, occasionally, contemplated moving to a yurt.

Music connects us in ways words don’t always manage. Whether it’s belting out indie folk choruses or awkwardly dancing at a first-date concert, there’s magic in its unspoken language. Plus, there’s something kind of sexy about bonding over shared lyrics—or bonding over the fact that you're mutually terrible at guessing song titles.

Takeaway: Make space for experiences. Sure, comfy routines rock, but a surprise concert date is a story waiting to happen.

6. The Notebook for All the Messy Thoughts

Confession: I’m a journal nerd. I’ve been scribbling thoughts in spiral-bound notebooks since high school, and yes, most of those adolescent entries involve angst over whether a crush liked liked me. While my notebooks are marginally more mature these days, they remain a place where I untangle my head and give my inner monologue some room to breathe.

This isn’t profound—we’re talking quick lists filled with grocery items, unanswered questions, and weird ideas about human connection. But it matters. Writing by hand slows you down; it forces you to actually feel your thoughts instead of scrolling them away.

Challenge: Next time you’re debating how to handle an awkward date interaction, write it out. Sometimes, seeing feelings on paper makes them way less daunting.

7. A Community Worth Coming Home To

Of all the physical “things” I can’t live without, none compare to the less tangible essentials. My friends, family, and community are the threads that every other part of my life is stitched together with.

These are the people who bring soup when I’m sick, listen patiently when I overshare about someone who hasn’t texted back, and remind me that sometimes, life makes zero sense—and that’s okay. Community isn’t about quantity, but quality: it’s the group you trust at your worst, not just your Instagram-worthy best.

If you’re lucky enough to have just one friend like that, hold onto them—and, better yet, be that person for someone else.

The Bottom Line

At the heart of it? The things I can’t live without aren’t just “things” at all. They’re tools, spaces, and experiences that keep me connected—both to myself and to others. They remind me why it’s important to slow down and savor life, whether I’m halfway up a mountain or pitching a tent in rocky soil.

And hey, if a camp mug and a wool blanket can help you navigate this wild, messy journey of life and love, who’s to say what’s essential for you? Find your own must-haves, and let them be the constant that grounds you—because whether you’re building a bond with someone new or strengthening the one you have with yourself, you deserve it.