I came across a new blog today. New to me and new to WordPress. It nearly left me speechless, and that is a very difficult feat for one blogger to do to another.
Apparently, it had made a similar impact in whomever chooses the ‘discover’ posts on WordPress, as that is where I found it. It also touched the hearts of the over 400 people who had followed the blog since it’s creation just a few short days ago.
Normally, I might be more prone to brush off the sharing of a blog that had already received such profound recognition. This one though, I feel many whom haven’t found it yet may be looking for the words this blogger shares without even knowing it.
So, here’s a link, go check her out -> Pique Blog
To be honest I’m a little envious. Her blog is beautifully written. More than that though she helped me to clearly see something I might have been struggling to fully accept. To explain, I’m going to break it down into just one tiny detail of my life….
As many of you know, or at least a few of you I hope, among my “bucket list” items for this year is one tiny little line that reads, “stop SMOKING!” This, obviously, is a much bigger thing that the space it took on that paper makes it appear.
I quit smoking once, for over a year. The stupidest thing I ever did was start smoking again, (or maybe it was to start in the first place?) It was the first real attempt I had ever made to quit, and it worked… sorta. I had since tried quitting again over the years without much success.
As absolutely ridiculous as this sounds, a result of the addiction I am sure, quitting so successfully the first time has actually made it harder for me to do it again. Yes, I know that after a short time I will feel so much better. Healthier. More energy. Etc. I know that I will see smoking as the disgusting addiction that it is. I know that the fleeting moments will come up, such as when I have a few alcoholic beverages around a summer bonfire, that I’ll miss that fellow cigarette for a moment before I realize how stupid that thought is. I know that after a few months I will be perfectly happy never having a cigarette ever again, and that is what I fear. I will never have this little “crutch” again.
The first time I quit smoking it was powerful. I DID NOT want to smoke. I DID NOT want to die the miserable death my dad had. I DID NOT want to push my kids aside so I could smoke another cigarette. I DID NOT want to be filling my kids lungs with the horrible second hand smoke I was spewing at them. I DID NOT want them to ever grow up to smoke.
Truthfully, I don’t really feel that way anymore. Sure, I don’t want to be suffocating and “neglecting” my kiddos. That’s a given. But, I don’t want to quit like I did that first time.
One day, I know I’m going to be sitting in the doctors office getting the diagnoses of one of the many incurable effects of smoking. Lung cancer. COPD. The list is endless. I know that one day I will be sitting there getting that diagnoses, and I know, that it will crush me.
I watched my dad suffer through it and it was horrible. At 20 years old I was diagnosed with Melanoma cancer, and although it was in early enough stages that it could be treated, it put a very specific perspective into such a diagnoses. I knew exactly how I would feel when that doctor told me that I had lung cancer or COPD or emphysema or whatever…. I knew that I would be completely at fault. That it was 100% preventable. That I had done this to myself. And more than anything, I know for a fact I will have wished with everything I had that I had quit one of the numerous times I had attempted to.
“If only I had known what would happen, I would have quit.” I knew I would never be able to confidentially use that line. I knew exactly what would happen.
That day terrifies the shit out of me.
Yet, here I sit, typing this with a cigarette in my hand, as if I’m waiting for that day to come before I feel the true motivation to quit.
This is precisely what I thought of as I read Waking Up Without a Wake Up Call: Transformation Without Tragedy. Deep down I knew all of this. I knew that I needed to wake the fuck up before tragedy struck. I knew it so deeply that I feared it, but I never once let the thought process to the surface until I read that post.
I don’t need to wait for the intense motivation that en-captured me the first time I quit, because it will likely never come. I need to quit because the alternative is simply not an option.
In many ways, I think this is what the writer of the wonderful blog I came across this morning was saying. We don’t need to wait until something awful happens to see the “error of our ways.” If we open our eyes, we can see the error of our ways without the wake up call, and if we can only see them, then we can change them.
I look forward to future posts from this blogger. Who knows? Maybe we can all transform without the tragedy, together.