In Case of Emergency

IN CASE OF EMERGENCY

You’ve probably seen one of those old-school fire axes.

Mounted on the wall. Sealed behind glass.

A little sign that says: “In Case of Emergency, Break Glass.”

I haven’t seen one in a while, but I remember stopping in front of one as a kid and thinking:

What kind of crisis would actually require an axe?

A fire? Maybe.

But, have you seen the average man try to swing one?

I’ve seen plenty of men attempt to chop logs only to fling the axe at high speed behind them.

And we’re really trusting people with that level of coordination during an actual emergency?

No. The only thing that made sense to me was zombies.

Some end-of-the-world chaos where only the strong, coordinated, and slightly unhinged survive.

That’s what the axe is for.

But jokes aside, it stuck with me.

Because whether it’s a fire or a fantasy apocalypse, there’s something comforting about having a primitive tool nearby.

A last resort.

Something to hold when the world is spinning.

Because sometimes that’s all a man needs.

Not a perfect plan.

Not a life coach or a checklist.

Just a damn axe.

Something solid in your hands to remind you that you’re still in control.

WHEN THE DRIFT BEGINS

The last few weeks I’ve felt off.

Not falling apart. Not spiraling.

But… early stage drifting.

Creativity has been zapped, motivation empty, discipline on life support.

More food. Less clarity. Checked boxes. Low presence. Scattered focus.

A number of factors influencing this state that are irrelevant but still a burden.

I didn’t implode. I didn’t sabotage.

But I could feel the drift…

I call it Pea Soup.

It’s this dark, murky, tasteless sludge that is thick and hard to move through.

It has substance… but no real flavor, it’s hard to distinguish what the ingredients are (because its soup) which makes solving the problems more difficult, a porridge of problems.

… and when you’re in the soup, everything starts to get, well, soupy.

THE MOMENT MOST MEN QUIT

This is the moment most men break something…

I’ve done it 1,000’s of times so I speak from experience.

Blow up a business, burn a relationship, go on a bender, create another problem so they can have a fresh start.

It’s usually just escape, a pattern that repeats until a new habit is formed.

But regardless, if not caught early it becomes a vicious cycle of self destruction, a full on self-imposed zombie apocalypse that devours everything in sight.

And that’s why you need a tool, not an axe, but my version of it.

The Anti-Drift-Pre-Apoclyptic-Emergency ToolKit

About a decade ago, I started writing letters to myself.

Micro time capsules. Messages meant to be opened only when the fog rolled in, that damn pea soup.

I can’t remember exactly when or why I started, but I had this weird habit of collecting greeting cards.

Birthday cards, anniversary cards, condolence cards… mostly the inappropriate, over-the-top kind that made me laugh.

“This is funny. Someday I’ll have someone to give this to.”

Except I never did.

Eventually, I had a whole drawer full of cards… and nobody to send them to.

So I started sending them to myself.

What began as a joke became a practice.

I’d take a card, write down what was working, what I was proud of, what I needed to remember, and then seal it.

A snapshot of clarity, discipline, and momentum…

Stored away for the day I’d need it.

On the front, I’d write in bold:

“IN CASE OF EMERGENCY: OPEN.”

Last week I opened a card…

“Congrat-u-fucking-lations”

That card didn’t solve my problems.

But it snapped me out of the fog.

It gave me something to grip.

An axe for the oncoming zombie apocalypse.

YOUR VERSION OF THE AXE

You don’t need to wait for the crash.

You can prepare for the drift now... because it is coming.

So, if you’re winning now, bottle that shit up, put it on paper, in your own words with exactly how you got here.

Write to the future version of you who will forget.

Remind him who he is.

That’s your axe.

… and if your not winning.

For those in the soup…

This is your card from me:

Do the hard thing.

That one thing you’re avoiding.

Make the call. Do the workout. Cancel the subscription. Clean the house. Have the conversation. Throw out the junk. Say the truth. Repent. Forgive. Decide. Do something hard. Stack a win. Then do it again. Then do it again. Then do it again. Then do it again.

Keep swinging.

Much love,

E