Rub of the Brush

 

Ran 10.2 miles (~16.5 km) this morning on the treadmill.  In the Pandora song portion of my run, I was especially enamored with two of the songs that came into the queue today.  I especially liked and enjoyed because of their musicality and because of their lyrics.   The first was "Beginnings"  by Chicago, and the other was "Hand Me Down World" by The Guess Who.  They both featured (to my mind) incredible musicality and lyrics.  I especially like the extended trombone & trumpet solos near the back 1/3 of the Chicago track.  The guitar intro and the percussion on The Guess Who track was excellent.  Both songs resonated with me via their lyrics as well.     

Our dog was still feeling sore and lethargic following her vaccinations a few days ago, so I had to call and cancel/reschedule her grooming appointment for Friday.  She needs more recuperation time.  She did not even want to be brushed this morning because it seems she was very sore.  I did, however, brush a considerable amount of fur off of our cat. He has so much fur that it is amazing how much I can get from him each and every day.  

After yesterday's long day of face-to-face teaching, having to lecture as loudly as I could through double masks, I am very glad to have a fully on-line today at home.  I have been cyborging away since I sat down at 8:10 am.  

I have (of course) been thinking more about what my options are with regards to my pipes.  I unfortunately am still all over the map.  I will list my various thoughts below, but I wanted to also mention a bit of the reading I heard today during the second half of my run when I watched yesterday's time-delayed video of the Capuchin house's daily Mass: 

 The Gospel at Mass had a portion of Mark being read, and in it was:

"And he called the people to him again, and said to them, “Hear me, all of you, and understand:  there is nothing outside a man which by going into him can defile him; but the things which come out of a man are what defile him.”

This struck me significantly and reminded me of what both Frs. Keith & David had told me several years ago. Pipes and pipe smoking are NOT sinful.  It is only my own sin from my own doings that can be sinful.  Fr. Dan (the priest at this Mass) also stated in a very elegant way in his homily the need to work at having purity of heart and mind that helped me to recognize I need to work very strenuously at seeking and living with a heart and mind of forgiveness towards those who have hurt me, and I am trying to get my mind into that focus regarding the two individuals at work regardless of how hard it seems to be to get there. To not work towards that goal would be a failing in myself.

So, where is my scattershot mind at in regards to the potential return to pipes?  I wish the hell I knew, but my mind is like sand at the beach, moving and shifting all over the place.  Here is a listing of my thoughts:

1.  I truthfully WANT to smoke my pipes.  I would like that beautiful "reward" to be back when I accomplish a duty, a task, or something difficult.

2.  I do not know if I have enough energy/gumption to adopt and maintain a "scheduled" occasional indulgence in my pipes.  In some ways I think it could just add another layer of "stress" to my life which has plenty of stressors already.  

3.  I would really like, if I were to start smoking my pipes again, for it to be in the easy, casual, care-free way it HAD been for so many of the early decades/years.  But, I do not know if that is truthfully attainable in the land of 2021.  The world is different.  

4.  I do not want the worry/fear component to return, which was a major factor in my plan to return in a "scheduled" sort of fashion.  So, is the added energy/gumption required to succeed in a "no worry/fear" indulgence perhaps just what I have to accept as necessary?  

5.  I do, of course, know that some facet of my joy of pipe smoking was ingrained within the social aspects of the hobby with the various friends and loved ones with whom I indulged with.  With there being no way for those social aspects to return, am I just chasing after something that is unattainable?  

6.   I do sincerely MISS the part of myself that seems to have disappeared (or perhaps cloistered is a better word?) since I have refrained.  In an EXTERNAL way, it was a facet of my identity, that was obvious.  But, it is perhaps the INTERNAL ways that are more elusive to describe, but I do feel inside. I feel somewhat as if I am a different person.  Maybe that is not quite right, but at some level I am not the "me" whom I knew.  It sounds rather stupid, trying to write it out, so perhaps I will just leave it at that for now.  

So, I guess this is it for the day.  Now I should morph back into the professorial, cyborg "me" and resume the rest of my normal day. I do appreciate though, having this spot to express some of my inner thoughts that do not have any other venue for expression, and I do appreciate your thoughtfulness in reading and in your comments.  

My title, by the way, references a phrase I have heard a few times in watching a few films and television shows of the "Westerns" genre.  The phrase "Rub of the Brush" always stuck in my memory and both amused and bemused me.  It is a term that was coined for the booze stash that a saloon bartender would make where he would pour the remnants of left over drinks from his patrons into an empty bottle for his own indulgence.  Instead of drinking his own profits, he would pour himself a stiff drink from the "Rub of the Brush" bottle when desired (like after the conclusion of a brawl he witnessed in his establishment).  I liked the juxtaposition of this arcane term with the pet brushing I did this morning.

PipeTobacco