Smoking Kills?
I come from a long line of drinkers and smokers, not to mention potty mouths. What can I say, the old habits get passed down over the generations. I’m not so much into the drink as I once was, say, back in college. I’ll spare those details. I still swear quite a bit, but I’m getting better at saving expletives for when I really need to make a point. And as for smoking, well, it’s complicated.
When everyone was buying packs of cigarettes back in college and during those early working years, I was always bumming one here or there. Other times, I’d buy a pack of cigarettes, only to smoke one or two, then give the rest away. I always joked that while most people were trying to stop smoking, I was trying to start.
I never really succeeded at it.
As for smoking other things, yes, I’ve checked that box several times. I still check that box from time to time, but the herb nowadays is so strong, I find myself crying, laughing, ravenously hungry, paranoid, and wanting to call my mom all within the first ten minutes after a puff. I suppose my receptors are all fired off and the strains of today are just too powerful.
And so, I get a craving for a cigarette now and again. It’s not so much a craving as it is need to relax myself. I suppose that’s all cigarettes and nicotine are: a mini-gateway to calm. It’s just unfortunate that it has to smell so terrible and take seven minutes off of your life.
I have that pack, the one that just sits around waiting for me. I find a time to burn one down, maybe on a work trip or a walk or in the backyard when the family isn’t home, and it does the trick for sure. It calms, relaxes, gives that false sense of ease. But it all feels so dirty.
I shared this with my therapist the other day when we were discussing what else I use to turn around an otherwise challenging day.
He reminded me that cigarettes are essentially breath work, that when we inhale and exhale, we calm ourselves. Sure, the nicotine serves as an analgesic, but it’s the breath, the motion, that our bodies truly want. He pantomimed inhaling an invisible cigarette, emphasizing the upward motion of the diaphragm.
Since that conversation, which happened as I was literally walking out of his office, I’ve become addicted to invisible cigarettes. When I’m feeling a little of sorts, I’ll grab one from thin air, bring it to my lips, and breathe in, slow and easy. I exhale one long, soothing breath.
There are so many advantages to invisible cigarettes. They’re free, unlimited in fact, and they leave no odor. Not only are they they quite mild, but you can smoke them anywhere. And there’s no shame in them, perhaps only looks of curiosity when those two fingers come to the lips, and when you inhale all that delicious air.
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Photo by Luka Malic on Unsplash
