I need to be honest about something with you all. A lot has been on my mind lately. To coherently bring it together for myself, I will share it all with you. Maybe writing will get it all put in one place.
But first, let me grab my pipe; it is time to go lunting. I have gained almost a thousand new followers since my last lunting article, and I would like to take this moment to recap a lunting. Lunting is merely taking a walk, with a tobacco pipe. It is a moment of quiet reflection.
Sometimes it can be hard to get the tobacco burning well, especially when it is overly moist. Usually, when I open a new pouch or tin, it is extremely moist. I will leave it open for a day or so and let it dry out.
Sometimes, like right now, I power through it with multiple lights.
It occurs to me that often life is that way. Sometimes, you get a chance to plan. You can prepare to make a difficult situation more manageable. Other times, you have to force your way through, striking the match to relight the fire that drives you. But let’s face it, always easy would get rather dull.
A pleasant treat
You know, lunting in September is not always the most enjoyable of times.
Here in south Mississippi, it is rather hot and humid. Walking outdoors invokes beads of sweat to the brow and after just a short walk, rivers of it flowing down your back. And the bugs; we have mosquitos big enough to carry off a small child, but the pipe smoke does help that a bit.
Nothing in life is easy, though. Frequently we are sweating through it like a September lunting trip. The heat of our lives is stressing us. We are having to sweat through it all the while fighting to keep this fire lit. But through it all, the sweet reward of the smoke.
It is a reminder that no matter how unpleasant your path is at the moment, somewhere, through the heat, the sweat, the struggle to burn, there is a sweet, pleasant treat to be found.
As I let the smoke roll around my mouth while I enjoy the flavors and slight bite, I am weirdly ok with the momentary discomfort that it brings.
Exhaling the smoke through my nose brings an extra kick of flavor to the whole experience. While the smoke rolls and tumbles in the air, momentarily distracting you from everything else as your mind swirls with the vapor.
And then something happens, just as you least expect it, one more puff gets the tobacco burning bright. Finally, I get to smoke this effortlessly.
The same truth applies to our lives when we struggle and battle through something. A moment occurs when we realize it is suddenly easier.
You see, smoking a pipe is an art. The tobacco the paint, the pipe the brush, and your mind is the canvas on which it paints. The thoughts, the memories, sometimes, the most abstract visions fill your consciousness. I can paint my mind to reflect my needs, to reflect my emotions.
As you are walking, the smoke circles your head, exciting your senses. You see the swirls, smell the aroma, taste the leaf, feel the pipe’s heat, and hear your voice. That last one, this is something that few of us take the time to do. Hear our own voices.
The need for self-reflection is essential, possibly above all other needs for a man, or really anyone. If we cannot hear our voices, we have lost everything else. Our vision into our future dims, the world tastes bland, and our touch grows cold. Without our voice, we simply go numb.
In the moment
It is important to get lost in your thoughts from time to time. As I walk and smoke, my mind is now free to focus on itself. The miles fade behind me, I can walk farther, endure longer, and not even notice how much I’ve accomplished until suddenly, my pipe goes out—drawing me back into my current situations.
At this moment, I look around, sometimes unsure of how I arrived but enjoying the destination none the less. Like my pipe going out, that moment of pleasure that you are in will fade out as well. Bringing you back to the moment, allowing you to refocus your goals and take another step forward.
Far as my confession goes. I have already confessed it to you. Did you catch it? Was your mind clear enough to receive it? Or did you lose yourself in the journey? It is ok if you did, I do not blame you. Sometimes you have to get lost in order to find your way again. As for me? I am going to refill my pipe and head off back for home. I may lose myself on the way. After all, you cannot beat great tobacco.
Psalm 143:5, “I remember the days of old; I meditate on all that you have done; I ponder the work of your hands.
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