Tag Archives: Solitary pipe smoking

The Solitary Pipe Smoker Revisited

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Blog by Steve Laug

This drawing came to me from Bill Cumming as a gift. He found it on his journeys. To me the illustration captures the solitary nature of the ritual of the pipe.

A few years ago, I wrote a blog called The Solitary Pipe Smoker in which I spoke of my own predilection toward being a solitary pipe smoker. I wrote it with no disrespect for the community of pipe smoking folks – male and female with whom I have had the pleasure of communing while enjoying my pipe. Rather, I wrote it because in my life I need time that is not filled with “noise” – good, bad or neutral – to recentre and refocus my life. I wrote of how the pipe is able to give me space and time to do just that. The ritual of the pipe is almost sacramental, in that it creates the space in my head and in my life to step away and regroup. The link to the original blog is (https://rebornpipes.com/2012/05/29/the-solitary-pipe-smoker/). For me, the fact that I have to pay attention to the ritual and move through the steps of loading, packing, lighting and tamping my pipe in itself pulls my thoughts into the circle of the bowl.

Like others, I thoroughly enjoy the comradery of a group of pipe folks – sharing tobaccos, while swapping stories and pipes is a pleasure I don’t take lightly. Several years have gone by since I wrote that blog and I thought it was time to revisit my thinking. I have bought, sold and traded quite a few pipes over that period. I have had great visits with pipe folk around the world over a pint or a coffee while enjoying a favourite bowl together. I wondered with the passage of time if my understanding of the solitary habit of my pipe smoking had changed at all. Had my need for space and time alone made any radical shift since I wrote that? Have I become more social in my pipe smoking and less solitary? These and other questions ran through my mind. Yes, it is time revisit my thinking on the solitary dimension of my pipe smoking.

I set aside some time over the past weeks to think about the questions that I posed above. I have reflected on my thoughts from the previous blog and have read others who have written on the communal aspect of pipe smoking. I wanted to compare my earlier thinking with what others have written about the communal nature of the pipe. Some of them have gone so far as to say that pipe smoking is best as a communal experience. For me that has not necessarily been true in the past. Therefore, to check my experience I have taken time for introspection and self-examination; I have to say that I have become even more committed to the time of solitude with my pipe since I wrote the earlier blog. The solitary nature of pipe smoking is sacred to me. It addresses a need in my life for time that is free of the interruption of speech or noise.

Why is that true for me? My every day work life is crowded with people and conversations. I spend 8-12 a day, 5-6 days a week talking with people face to face, on the internet, or the phone. By the end of my day, I am certain that I have used my quota of words. I am talked out and have nothing left to say. I long for the quiet of solitude. No sounds, no talking, no music, no need to respond or pay attention to another person – just quiet, alone time.

However, this is where the problem comes into focus for me. I am not a hermit who lives alone in his cabin in the woods. I live in community with my wife of 40+ years and 3 of our adult daughters. When we get home from work in the evenings, everyone wants to engage and be family – except me. I want to disappear and I get that haunted look in my eyes of a captive who cannot hide. What am I supposed to do? Do I just ignore the needs of the family and selfishly cling to my own needs – real or imagined? Do I stuff my need for quiet and just man up and do the work? Do I come up with an alternative that works for all of us in my family?

Together my wife, daughters and I came up with a workable solution for us – it allows me some solitude before I engage with my family. It is simple and it gives me the space I need and gives them the Husband and Dad they want. When I get home from work, I go to my workshop and fiddle with restoring pipes or have a bowl of tobacco on my front porch or maybe both. By the time dinner is ready my equilibrium has been restored and I can be present in the family. The time with the pipe – either puffing it or restoring it or both gives me the separation that I need to leave the talking of the day behind me. It gives me the solitude that is so necessary for the introverted me to be able to be ready to re-engage with my family. This solution has worked for us for many years now and I find that relieves a lot of pressure that they or I can impose on myself for not being able to listen well to my family after spending a day listening to others.

My reflections confirm that solitude is important not only for my own spiritual and emotional health but for my ability to engage fully in the events of my life and enjoy the present. However, I have also learned that no matter how important solitude is for me, it remains elusive in my life if I do not make space for it. My life filled with noise, busyness and the intrusion of the internet will always take precedence if I do not challenge it. It is hard to leave the noise behind and spend time alone. Many people do not like to spend time alone. They find it uncomfortable and hard to do. To take the time to be alone is actually countercultural and challenging. To maintain a routine of solitude is even harder.

Solitude – where all external communication, noise and internal noise and chaos stops is becoming a fading memory for most people I know. The idea of stopping the doing and just being is becoming harder for folks to imagine. However, I have found that it is a necessity that if neglected has consequences for me. Those consequences range from malaise and weariness that can easily progress to burn out to being so busy that I forget to care for myself with all of the accompanying issues that arise from that. So how do I ensure that I take the time to be solitary? How do I maintain this needed respite?

I have learned that this is where my pipe can facilitate the introspective, quiet time that I require. It is a pleasure that I enjoy and a past time that provides me with the quiet I long for. When I settle on the porch or shop with my pipe and a favourite tobacco the move into solitude begins. The smell of the unpacked pipe begins the process of transporting me into quiet. The feel of the pipe in my hand is inviting. I open the tin or pouch of tobacco and inhale deeply of the aroma. I love that moment when the components of the blend spin around and come together with a delightful pouch note. I slowly breathe out, exhaling the stress of my life. I put the pipe bowl in the pouch or the tin and push the tobacco into the bowl with a finger or thumb. If it is a flake tobacco, I rub it out between my fingers and thumb or on the palm of my hand until it is the right consistency for a smoke. I pack the bowl almost unthinkingly now as I have done it so long. I am often far away in my thoughts as I load the pipe. I use my thumb to test the pack of the bowl. All of these minute steps cause me to focus on a singular task and leave behind the events of my day.

When the flame is put to the smoke and the slight draw of smoke flows into my mouth it is like a sipping a good wine. I savour the flavor of the tobacco as it swirls around my mouth. I sip on the pipe, slowly setting a cadence to the smoke. A good smoke has to be unhurried and uninterrupted if it is going to be a quiet place for me. I find that when my wife or daughters talk with me in the process of the smoke, I lose the cadence and the magic is gone. That slow sipping of smoke into the mouth and letting it slowly leave through the mouth brings focus and quiet. As the smoke ascends and wreaths my head, reaching to the ceiling of my porch I sense the pipe drawing me into the circle of solitude. It is this moment where I could stay forever. Pipe smokers speak of a magic smoke, but for me each smoke that transports me to a peaceful spot is magic.

I have tried to move to that quiet place with others present on my porch. My son in law will join me for a pipe periodically and it is never quite the same. It is nothing he says or does, as often it is quiet.  It may be that my mind moves from that place of being unengaged to having to think about another person. I am not sure why but I know that doing that takes my focus off the moment and immediately makes it another social event for me. While it is often a pleasant experience for me, it still does not meet the need I feel for solitude.

I have found that it is only alone that I experience the magic of the pipe. I don’t think I have ever had the experience in the company of pipemen. No matter how convivial the gathering or how enjoyable the experience it is never the same. I think that the experience of the magic is linked to the solitude. I think that is why some have called pipe smoking sacramental. The pipe has the ability to transport the pipeman from the mundane of the day into a sacred place where the soul is at rest and prayer can happen without thinking. The wafting of smoke is not unlike the incense used in places of worship that lift the worshiper to a higher plane and out of their daily routine. The ritual of pipe smoking – the tamping, relighting and puffing slowly all work together the same way to lift me out of the day to day wrestling to a place of quietude.

As the last tamp is done and the last sip of smoke is drawn into my mouth I find myself moving back into the present. The pipe and the smoke have prepared me for re-entry into my home life. It makes the transition into the life of my family somehow more natural and less forced. I tap the bowl against the heel of my hand and tip the ashes into the flower bed below my front porch. I run a pipe cleaner through the stem and bowl and blow air through to remove any bits of tobacco in the bowl. Each step is part of the re-entry. The taste of the tobacco on the inside of my lips and the lingering smoke in my beard are reminders of the place of quiet I am leaving.

All that being said, I guess I am still a solitary pipe smoker most of the time. I am not a recluse or particularly anti-social but I long for and enjoy the quiet times alone with my pipe. The closest thing that provides me the same kind of moment is a pipe on a good walk. Each Sunday I walk to church with my wife and daughters. It is about a 30-40 minute walk and it provides a perfect opportunity to enjoy a bowl and some quiet. I dawdle along with a pipe in my mouth enjoying the day. If it is sunny so much the better and if it is raining it is not a deterrent.

 

Smoking under an umbrella

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Ugh, another rainy day in Vancouver. Not the normal drizzle that is pervasive throughout the winters around here, but a full downpour. It’s June 2 so summer weather should be happening. I should be wearing shorts and sandals not a sweater and slicker. But what can you do – weather is one of those things that you can complain about but not control. The complaint seems to accomplish nothing other than to make you miserable. So I picked up my umbrella – it does not often get used in the winter rains as a drizzle is manageable with a wide brimmed hat – and I headed out into the rain for my walk.

Before leaving the dry zone of my front porch and entering the downpour, I packed a pipe with some Dark Twist to smoke while I was on the walk. Smoking in the rain has always been something I have avoided for the most part. On occasion, I have turned my pipe upside down to keep it going in the drizzle and tried to enjoy the smoke but it was always a pain. This evening the umbrella was a godsend. The pipe would stay dry and keeping it going would be no trouble. I could smoke it right side up!! The umbrella formed a dome shaped smoking room around me that not only kept things dry but also created a zone that held the smoke around my head. If you can picture a person walking in a cloud of smoke you get the picture of the still air that held the smoke in place as I walked. I got to smell my own tobacco and live with the room note in a limited space.

I had avoided smoking with an umbrella in the past as it seemed like it would be just one more thing to hold onto while I was walking. I had all kind of discussions with myself about how I could not tamp or manage a lighter and a pipe and an umbrella at the same time, but this time I just did it. No excuses, no rationale. I made sure to fire the pipe and tamp and relight before I started on the walk and just figured I would deal with the issue of tamping and relighting should I need to when it occurred.

I started down the sidewalk walking under the trees, enjoying the smell of the tobacco and the surprising experience of a good smoke. The pipe did not go out nor did I need to tamp for awhile. I just enjoyed the moment of the smoke. It was almost like taking a mobile room with me. It was quiet with the pattering of rain on the umbrella. Traffic was at a minimum as it was after dinner. The light swish of cars going by a block away on the busy street near home was not an interruption. In the course of my walk I met an older woman (older is now a relative term for me in this 57th year!) who looked at the pipe and said how good it was to see someone smoking a pipe out and about! She said it brought back memories of her father and uncles who were all pipe smokers. She smiled as she walked by! Contentedly I walked on in the rain enjoying even more the solitude and pleasure of the pipe after that kind of comment.

None of the antis seemed to be about – I guess the rain must also be harmful to our health! As this was the case I walked through the neighbourhood park (illegal to smoke in the parks in Vancouver). The park is a great green space that takes up a square block in the centre of my neighbourhood. It is filled with large Chestnut, Oak, Fir, Pine, Cedar, Maple and Cherry trees. The grass is long as it has been too wet to mow and the smell of the rain is a pleasure in the park away from the street and the cars. I walked to the overhang at the school next to the park and set the umbrella down so I could tamp my pipe. I decided to just stay there in the dry space for a few moments and smoke my pipe while I watched the rain. It was as if I was the only one out walking this early evening.

I shook out my umbrella and then continued my walk. I finished my pipe under the umbrella as I walked home. It is amazing to me how the pipe gave me a different perspective and attitude toward the rain. It was far different than my usual whine about the rain and the damp and it being June!! I came home in good spirits and settled down with a good book knowing that I did not have work in the yard or garden this evening!

Chillin with a pipe

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This is another piece I wrote. It was born during a stressful time in my life. The pipe is a necessary piece of the solace I find in times like this.

Over the past days I have had multiple reasons to reflect on the necessity of just “chillin”, stopping and not allowing the franticness of others and the problems that they so often seem to put on me get the best of me. I am reminded of the importance of just taking time to pick up my pipe and relax. Too often these days it seems to me, I let others move or manipulate me with their urgency, to get frustrated or anxious, or angry; to take up defence or offense and speak out; to get sucked into the schemes or plans whose ends are somehow assumed to be hidden. It is in those moments that I remember why I am a pipe smoker.

I take out my pouch or tin; quietly and slowly load a bowl. I say slowly because you cannot do it quickly and get it done well. You have to work a nice knot of tobacco into the bowl in such a way as to enable a good burn. Even that process slows the pace and makes you breathe a bit more slowly. I take a deep breath and slowly inhale, letting the magic of the moment, the stuffing of the bowl, the feel or look of the pipe in hand, the feel of tobacco whatever its cut, its unlit smell, the pungency of a good Virginia pouring out of the tin, just take over. My breathing becomes more relaxed and measured, my vision and thoughts more focused as I pack the bowl of the pipe I have picked from my rack.

I don’t understand how, but it is a fact that the issues and troubles come into perspective as I quietly work over them a bit removed from their urgency. I am able by the pipe, to slowly turn them in my mind instead of just reacting in knee jerk fashion. Ahhh, the wonder of the reflective time taken in packing a bowl, the anticipation of the smoke and then finally the smoke itself. From the strike of the first match and the initial flame that passes over the tobacco, from the feel of the first rush of flavour in my mouth and on my tongue to seeing the gentle smoke blow across the porch or room, I can step away for a brief respite from whatever others put on me or whatever I choose to take on and remember that it too will pass. Things really are all right with my world.

When I forget this magic of my pipe, I am quickly and thoughtlessly sucked into the urgency of others complaints and concerns. I cease to be any help at all as their issues rapidly escalate into my own. A long time ago on the streets I learned from an old friend a piece of wisdom that too readily slips away. He said something like this: “I like helping folks with problems, so in the course of our relationship if ever I allow your issues, problems or concerns to become mine, I can no longer help you — because now you don’t have a problem anymore…. it is now mine.”

For me the pipe gives me the freedom to keep remembering the wisdom of my old friend. As I light my bowl I am given the space to keep my distance from issues and not personalize them. When I do this I am given the rare privilege of standing apart from the problem or issue of my life and viewing it as a casual observer for a bit. I get to take time to mull over thoughts with a pipe and bowl. I can be thoughtful and less prone to jump to conclusions and take offence. That is the wonder of the pipe for me. It is a means of separating myself from my life and its constant influences and turbulence. It creates a zone of space where I can turn things over slowly in my head and look at it dispassionately just for a bit… perhaps as it has happened many times in the past, a solution will walk out of the smoke for me. Time for a bowl… cheers

The Solitary Pipe Smoker

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I know, a lot of pipe smokers love the comradeship of a gathering of pipe smokers who sit together and jaw away time as they chat about their hobby and the solve the crises of the world from the comfort of a wreath of smoke. But me, I need the quiet reflective time of being by myself. The rest of my life is full of people around me all the time making demands either implicitly or explicitly on my time and attention. I come home each evening tired of people and the demands of a day of work. To me at that moment the last thing I need is to sit and talk with anyone… pipe smoker or not. What I long for and seek is a quiet solace that is created by my pipe and a bit of time to disconnect from the day that has past.

I find a corner in the house, on the porch or under a tree in the yard whose only requirement is that it must be quiet – maybe the hum of passing traffic, maybe a dog barking or some other external noise that is non human is present as ambient noise, a white noise. That kind of noise is acceptable and a welcome addition to help quiet the noise in my head. In that quiet space I settle into a comfortable chair from which I can observe the life of the neighbourhood around me. The twittering of birds, the squabbles of the squirrels over the walnuts in my yard are a pleasant change. I take out a trusted and well broken in pipe and handle it carefully. I rub it down and feel the gentle curves and the variety of textures that make up stem and bowl. I sniff the warm memories of bowls that had been smoked in the past and just take time to savour the moment. Life is good. There is no rush to pack the bowl. No frantic need to get to the point. No sense of having to pack the bowl and smoke pressing upon me. I can move at my own pace in my own time with no one defining the time.

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly and just enjoy the pleasure of being for a moment. Far removed by time, space and mental thought from the demands of doing. I take out my pouch or tin of a good tobacco that I know will deliver a good smoke and begin the process. I remove a couple of flakes of sweet smelling Virginia and smell the sweet grassiness of the tobacco. I rub them out to the texture I love or I roll them into a ball in my palms and enjoy the feel of the tobacco as it is readied for packing. This ritual in itself is a moment of solitude that is hard to find in the norm of my life. Once the tobacco is just right I begin to load the bowl of my pipe. I want to make sure it is loaded just right, but I am not anal about it – that would wreck the moment. I take the tobacco and begin to tamp it into the bowl. I feel the springiness beneath my fingers and know from the years of the process that it is just right. I put the pipe in my mouth and feel the draw. While doing that I clean up the remnants of tobacco and roll the pouch or close the tin and set it aside. I sit like that for an immeasurable moment and just taste the tobacco – unlit in my pipe. There is freshness and expectancy in the taste. There is a promise of good flavour that will be released by fire. But I want to just take the time to enjoy the moment before striking the fire.

Then without knowing why, the moment of fire has arrived. I take my Zippo or a match – no reason for the choice, just what happens to be at hand. I circle the bowl with the flame drawing deeply on the pipe as the fire is drawn into the tobacco. I can feel the warmth in my mouth as it begins to catch fire. The tobacco begins to smoulder and the smoke curls out of the top of bowl and around the edges of my mouth. Ah the tastes and the sensations of that moment as the smoke rises from the bowl and I gaze at the world through the haze of a good smoke. I cannot quite explain the sensation of the moment for you – you just have to be there. There is no one talking. There is no demand on the time. There is no pressure to converse or respond to the need of another. There is no pressure from inside or outside to act. It is just the quiet moment of solitary time when my pipe delivers me to that place where I can be alone and unencumbered by anything or anyone. That is what I love about time with my pipe. It is time I cannot get in a group of pipe smokers. It is time I cannot get with another piper next to me. It is that sweet alone time that slows my life down and gives me renewed perspective to enter into the next moments of my life.

All too soon the embers smoulder out and the bowl is finished. The pipe is warm to the touch and the air around me is full of the smell of the smoke. Time begins to once again move forward. I can hear my wife and daughters moving around in the house working on dinner. I can hear their laughter and their bickering that is all a part of my life and I chuckle to myself. It is good! I can now fully enter into that piece of my life and be engaged with them. I have been able to lay aside the encumbrances of my day and become free to re-enter my family and enjoy them. Those private moments, those solitary times give me the space to disconnect from one moment and enter the next more fully. This is not to say I don’t enjoy the energy of a group of pipers together but it is these moments that energize me and keep me smoking my pipes. They have an uncanny ability to calm me and grant me serenity.