Fags, booze and a little bit of spirit

I don't do moderation very well.

In the past I have smoked heavily, slept around a lot and until recently have continued to drink way too much.

Getting married stopped the sleeping around but the fags and booze I had to deal with on my own. Stopping both proved easy, despite my heavy consumption, because in each case I introduced what I called a mental interrupt. Between the thought of nicotine or alcohol and the gratification of the urge I placed a block such that each time, without really having to think of it or make a conscious effort beyond a fleeting second, I decided not to do it.

What was it that was doing the interrupting? In effect I was tripping up my own mind, putting a constraint on my conscious thought, training my own ego. But what was doing the training? What was that calm, strong, positive force that was protecting me from myself.

Lying in the bath this morning I started to chuck around the idea that what had done the controlling was in fact my soul or spirit - the noticer, the watcher. I played with the feeling trying to hold onto the calmness that lay behind my consciousness. Of course the more I tried to experience it the more I thought about it and the faster it slipped away.

But it was there and it gave me comfort that it was