Seasons

While I had learned from the forum that it takes a full year to complete the base-est part of the psychological manifestations of cravings, I had forgotten. Whilst this process for me has not always been the easiest thing I've ever done, it had gotten manageable. And while I couldn't quite yet say I would never, ever smoke again, the thought of it became more and more unappealing, and the internal mental clicks became stronger and stronger.

And then it snowed.

Many people feel a sort of smoking 'kinship' with a certain season. I have heard countless times that if it's too hot and humid, some smokers don't really enjoy the stench and heaviness of tobacco. Still others, particularly in colder areas of the world, say they dislike the double battle that comes shiveringly with inhaling ice particles mixed with poison in the dead of winter.

Many of us, as we become educated and no longer smoke in our homes out of respect for our loved ones and pets, do not relish the thought of a frosty trip to the garage, or having to bulk up to go out for one or two puffs before we disgustedly throw out half of a whole stick because it's just too darned cold.

For me, winter is the biggest trigger of all. Living close to the mountains, I have often equated smoking with the socialization that comes with outdoor winter sports. Don't get me wrong, I was never the type of person - like my ex's mother - who would light up on the chair lift up the ski hill. (Just as a side-bar, the ex's mother quit smoking three years ago - good for her!)

I could never understand, as addicted as I was, how one could either light up on the lift or even stop on the way down to stand under a fragrant snow-laden pine and fire one up. That is if you could even get it lit with a frozen lighter or matches that fizzled too quickly. It just seemed so ludicrous, standing in the midst of all of that snowy, sparkling beauty, awed by the majesty of the great rockies. Inhaling the stinky weed after one's lungs had been filled fresh and full of clean mountain air seemed somehow, sacrilege.

Afterwards however, in the warmth of the chalet lounge's fireplace, over a steaming Polar Bear or Irish Coffee, it was exactly the 'perfect' time. What ever respite I had granted my lungs throughout the day was thoroughly disspelled in the evening hours sitting around the lounge, restaurant, or ski chalet with friends. Although this was a few years back and I haven't waxed the ole' boards in awhile, this is a romanticized junkie thought.

Winter for me, is a season full of paradoxes. I am all at once social because it is a season of holidays and gathering, and stressed, for the same reasons. Although I exhalt in the beauty of the crisp snow and love hot chocolate and warm flannels, I also miss the activity of a more temperate climate, and more spontaneous outside activities. It takes much bundling and wrapping of limbs and protuberancies to brave the - 40 degree with windchill nights should one perhaps forget to pick up milk.

It gets darker earlier up here and we are beginning to arrive at work in darkness and leave for home in twilight. More and more people are prone to depression or have complications due to Seasonal Affective Disorder, (SAD) which is all about lack of natural light, and too much daily darkness.

Personally, I am going through what I perceive to be a testing, and therefore, strengthening of my soul. I am going through some painful processes to release old habits and beliefs, to strive to live honestly and with truth, and to surround myself with the same.

In keeping with this path, I am currently reading 'Handbook for the Soul', a tome full of sage and nourishing chapters from many different spiritualists, philosophers and teachers. One chapter is called 'Seasons of the Soul' in which Linda Leonard, Ph.D. wrote the following, which struck a chord within on my ever searching journey;

''Winter is often experienced as a period of despair. At the same time, it is a period of creative hibernation and devlopment. When we get sunk down in the dark night of the soul, it helps to remember this is just one phase that will change into something else. We will come out of the darkness with something that will help us, and help other people. It is actually a kind of purification phase."

I have to believe that. Else why would some transitions ultimately be so painful?

The winters here up north are long and cold; there is much time spent indoors, getting outside can be not only a chore, but downright unadvisable as weathermen tell us to curl up with a good book rather than brave the treacherous icy roads and sub-zero temperatures.

There goes one of my escape methods, which was riding my bike by the river. All this means, is that I will have to find an alternate activity. A replacement for my habit. Although some of the cravings have been particularly strong after that first snow fall, my psyche is now getting used to this particular season and not equating it with toxins. This is a good time for me to post on the Forum.

Which brings me to another wonderful lesson I am learning; If you need help with this process, or anything else, get it. Remember, this is a battle for your life, literally.