Sitting on the back porch tonight, I find myself alone with the breeze and the warm glow of the patio lights, an iced glass of bourbon, and my pipe, smoking with my favorite blend and filling the air around me with an aromatically therapeutic scent. It struck me, as it always does, that I have no stress. A glass of bourbon and a bowl of pleasingly aromatic tobacco, and all's right with my world with the exception of the occasional train blaring the obnoxiously loud horn as they rumble through town, and even this I have learned to, for the most part, ignore. Go figure.
If you’d like to read more of my thoughts on stress, please follow this link to my blog, The Path: Stress Not
~ namaste