I’m ritualistic when it comes to cigars, and I don’t think that’s accidental. Cigars demand intention. The cut matters. The lighter matters. The pairing matters. I don’t use a punch—rarely ever—and I usually know exactly why I’m choosing a straight cut. Even the drink beside me is part of the decision. That ritual slows me down, and that’s the point.
Lately, I’ve caught myself breaking my own rules. Grab a cigar. Light it. Smoke it. No toasting the foot. No pause. No thought. And that’s when the question hit me hard: if a cigar isn’t worth the ritual, is it actually worth smoking?
To me, smoking just to smoke feels empty. It turns something meaningful into background noise. A good cigar deserves presence. It deserves stillness. Otherwise, you’re not experiencing it—you’re consuming it.
I know everyone has their own approach. My boy Tom Sheltra smokes while riding, and I respect that. For me, riding disconnects my mind, but it doesn’t relax it. Cigars are where I slow down.
So I’ll throw it out there. What’s your ritual? And if there is none, why light up at all?