Puff Piece

I did not quit smoking, I just stopped.

Let me explain.

I used to smoke half a pack a day back in college. When I first tried quitting, I lasted 6 months. But then I lit one again, and that was that. The next time I quit smoking, I was smoke-free for about 5 months and then... puff, puff, smoke, smoke.

I realized I smoked because I needed to occupy my time and my hands, usually while waiting—for a meeting to start, for a ride, for the food to arrive.

First I had to find an alternative to smoking. While waiting I’d reach for a book or magazine instead. Or play games in my cellular phone. Soon I saw no need to puff a cigarette while waiting.

Then I threw away my lighter. I also stopped buying cigarettes, and bummed off others instead. After a while it became really embarrassing to keep bumming off friends, so I did it less and less. Pretty soon I stopped asking for a stick.

More importantly, I made an important paradigm shift. I realized I put too much pressure on myself if I say “I quit smoking.” So I just said, “I stopped smoking.” Meaning if I puff once in a while, I don’t feel bad because, in the first place, I didn’t quit. My self-esteem remains intact.

Today my mouth doesn’t crave for nicotine at all. Yes, I admit to puffing once in a while, usually after a very heavy meal. But now I prefer to put a different “stick” in my mouth.

Nowadays my oral fixation is of an organic kind.