I gave up smoking around 4 years ago. To my surprise, that means that I’ve been a reformed smoker for nearly as long as I was a smoker in the first place.
As far as I was aware, I was completely addicted to smoking. At times, the lengths I would go to in order to get a cigarette were stunning, even to me. Come wind, rain or shine I’d get my regular fag in, suffering school detentions (on Saturday!) for getting caught; rotten colds made all the worse by the cough and the sore throat; midnight missions (on foot) down to the local Tesco’s garage when the fags ran out.
And then, one day whilst in a hostel in Brisbane, sitting next to my girlfriend and travelling partner (now my wife), I ran out of duty frees. And I haven’t bought any more since.
There were contributing circumstances, of course. A month earlier we had discovered that she was pregnant; not a very convenient discovery when one is currently in New Zealand facing another 3 months of travel before home sweet home. I could justify harming myself through smoking pretty easily (I like smoking, I don’t care if I knock 5 years off my own life), and Ellie was with me by choice as a consenting adult. An unborn child, though does mean a significant shift in responsibilities, and I suppose quitting smoking was as good a way of demonstrating commitment as anything else I could have done.
It wasn’t all simple – there were times, particularly at first, when the temptation to smoke was near irresistible and resistance was more of a pipe dream, but resist I did. One fact remained constant – that all quitting smoking really takes is following Sharpe’s First Law of Giving Up: stop putting cigarettes in your mouth.
Giving up something you love, I have come to believe, is good for the mind, and good for the character. As much as I’m not religious, the concept of personal restraint which instructs customs such as Lent and Ramadan has very good logic behind it.
So this year, I gave up chocolate – not for Lent, mind you: as a New Year’s Resolution. From January 1st until April 12th (Easter Sunday) I was allowed only such chocolate as I had left over from Christmas1. Even the sprinkled powder traditionally seen adorning a Cappuccino was strictly off limits.
I should make it clear that I adore chocolate in nearly all its forms. I’m no chocolate snob, either: if it’s chocolate I’ll probably eat it (although that, of course, rules out Hershey bars). Much like dear Alix, “threaten to take my Mini Eggs away, and you will find me a formidable foe”. You should appreciate, therefore, that giving up for a full three months was no small ask.
Yet, I survived. Despite gazing longingly into vending machines and baulking at the sight of a ‘Black Cherry and Dark Chocolate’ Müller Corner (given to my daughter, who clearly never loved it as I would have), I faced it all and I stood tall. For this I am actually a tad proud of myself – and that first piece of chocolate on Easter Sunday morning, despite it’s humble appearance2, was one of the most pleasurable pieces of chocolate I have ever tasted.
Since you’ve read this far, I suppose you’ll be expecting some form of moral to this story or point to this post, beyond ruminating about chocolate and nicotine. It’s possible that I may have to disappoint you there. I will say, however, that I have come to believe willpower is not something we are born with. It isn’t a genetic attribute or a personality constant. It’s something that you have to work upon – that have to must take out, dust off and exercise every now and again, or you might lose it through complacency and apathy.
In other words, if you can’t quit smoking, or lose weight, or get your life organised, maybe it’s worth doing as Michael Jackson did (all too literally, unfortunately) and starting with the Man in the Mirror.
- You may consider this a get-out, but I had 7 Thornton’s chocolates left from a Christmas present, and I was damned if I was going to just give them to a three year old. Regardless, they’d run out before the end of January [↩]
- a Kit Kat Chunky Easter Egg, since you ask, followed by a rather delicious box of chocs from All Things Chocolate [↩]
I agree with most of this. I think self-restraint is one of the most important human characteristics. That is why all the religions put it at the core of their rituals.
I have never smoked but I am a chocophile. I notice that if I haven’t had any for a while I don’t need it, but the more I eat the more I eat. I suppose that makes me an addict, doesn’t it.
Mmm chocolate!
Blue Eyes
April 16, 2009 at 12:55 pm