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I’m always trying to make my home smell nice. I sniff display candles at Diptyque. I burn incense. I have reed diffusers. I buy daisies. I do these things—not all at the same time—because scent is visceral and I want a visceral feeling of comfort in my own space. And that works well for me when I’m home. But I’m not always home (no matter what you’ve heard). When I’m traveling, I bring a scent with me so I can reset the vibe in an Airbnb. Specifically, I bring Hibi Incense Matches, which I burn like a witch (or Kyrie Irving) burns sage.
Hibi Incense Matches strike on the box and burn for ten minutes, leaving behind a tiny bit of ash you can either dump out, or just leave on the circular pad they come with and sit on while burning. Personally, I go for the Ylang Ylang ones because they don’t smell too sweet, but Hibi’s come in a bunch of different aromas. (Lemongrass is also worth checking out.)
The best thing about Hibi’s is that they aren’t too heavy handed on the aroma. They don’t create a cloud of Ylang Ylang; they create a whisper that rises and fills out in the room nicely. They allow for a bit of editing. If I’m cooking fish and need to cover the smell afterward, I can do that. When I need to cover the smell of the room spray in an airport hotel post-delayed flight because it wreaks of loneliness and infidelity, I can reach for the trusty little matchbook.
As someone who’s recently been trying to get into meditation, I’ve also found my Hibi’s helpful as a ten minute (ish) benchmark to just kind of stare at the glowing red bit as a meditative, hypnotic thing, complete with aroma, as a way to not get lost in an hour of thought and still allow myself to really commit to ten minutes worth of, well, nothing.
On a practical level, they’re really portable so they can go anywhere. I’ve used them in a car when things are a bit funky on a hot day or someone left a McDonald’s bag in there, or when I get to a new hotel and it’s leaving something to be desired. (I’ve also taken them on a plane. I didn’t light them or anything, but I’m noting it because it seemed odd that no one stopped me.)
It’s a visceral thing. Home is where the Hibi is. And it’s nice to have ten minutes of that feeling a strike away at a moment’s notice.
