...Prelude to a Quitter...
Once upon a time I was a smoker. I am still obsessed with this fact for whatever reasons. I don't know why it is such a strong obsession or why my addictive nature won't just let it go. Perhaps it is because I spent so much time liking it so much - and hating it so much. Now I just hate it so much. I hate what it has done to my family, to my own body, to the bodies of others that I care about. I hate that people walk around disregarding the horrific effects that the habit has, such as being asthmatic and using an inhaler after smoking a cigarette on a break..Really?!!!
I don't want to be one of those really annoying people who spouts off at the mouth about quitting smoking, believe me, my husband will tell you that he could choke me in my sleep about it. I try to tell myself, "Oh well, he will quit when he is ready. He will quit when there is less stress, more money, more time..." These things aren't the magic key that will suddenly open a door into "smobriety". Even the death of a loved one due to the very same addiction isn't the key. The only thing that I can keep coming up with after almost 7 solid years of not smoking even one puff of a cigarette is that I am meant to write about my journey. It keeps bashing me in the face every time I open an old notebook looking for other ideas and stories that I want to expand upon.
What I have also learned upon this journey is that writing absolutely contributed what I would say to be about 95% of my success to my abstinence. The term non-smoker will never apply to me. I am an ex-smoker. I spent a lot of time with quit smoking aids, I even overdosed on the patch one time. Not a pretty story but I will tell it should anyone ask...
As I am still removing old seed pods of the Past, I find scores of piles of journal entries in which I began a story called "Moonflower Castle", and it is on my slated list of books that I am writing in my lifetime. As I remain lost in the Labyrinth (The Forest Labyrinth) I am being taught a lesson and scared to death by the Minotaur that rumbles around the heart of it...I am learning that I cannot really control my stories the way I though I could. They have a wonderful time controlling me. If we could meet in the middle and compromise has yet to be seen. My first book was "Whispers of the Goddess" and much easier because it is a compilation of poems and musings. I needed to get that one published, and am pleased that I have.
Now the full moon hovers above me and shines down on me as I sleep. I swear I see words swirling down from moonbeams into my room. Ripped naked from me are all the silly head games I have been playing with myself. I stand once again on the edge of the abyss, ready to fly...
Until Next Time
Namaste'
