Last cigarette

She stepped on the cigarette stub with disgust, as she usually did after smoking, realizing once more how pointless smoking is, since it didn’t make anything better.

And then it struck her.
“Nothing ever does, does it? Nothing makes me feel happy. True, deep peace, I still haven’t found.“

The whole world stopped as she experienced this aha-moment.

“When did that happen? When did it all go south? I haven’t always been like this”

She replied to herself, continuing the inner dialogue. And then the answer arose from itself. In a split second she just knew the answer :

”I closed my heart. I closed it by choice.”

She even remembered the exact time and place it happened. It wasn’t anything big, no trauma of big proportions triggered it. She even felt silly remembering it. She was thirteen and in love. He didn’t love her back and so she decided not to waste her energy on finding love in deep meaningful relationships. Any relationships for that matter. Unconsciously she tried to replace it with success and admiration that comes with it

She finally understood why she found it difficult to treat herself to a night out alone or with friends for a dose of fun. Why a sight of snowflakes gracefully dancing through the air, then finally resting on a naked tree branch until it is covered with white sparkly blanket, doesn’t fill her with ecstasy anymore. Why every guy she meets loses her interest after a short while or doesn’t awake any interest at all. It can not be that absolutely no guy is good enough. Maybe she’s the one who’s projecting all of the things she finds unacceptable on others? Building a wall around her heart and making sure the gate stays shut. Serving the belief: that is a responsible thing to do.

And than it hit her like a ton of bricks

“A closed heart doesn’t just keep out love and beauty of others people and things. It also doesn’t let in any self-love. When the gate is shut, it is shut. Locked. Nothing can pass through.”

“How do others do it? How do they not get consumed by all the fear? I mean, I had and still have a good life. It isn’t perfect but all things considered, I couldn’t be one of those people on TED talks, sharing their epiphany that came after working through their issues and traumas. But I have my baggage. And I know for sure that I am not alone. We all do. So how do others do it?”

Again the answer just arose. As if a light bulb has been turned on in her head.

“It has to be a choice. I’m sure their life has as much imperfections as mine. Yet, they are happy. They choose to see the good, the beauty, right now in this moment. They don’t allow the dark parts to pull them down. Their external world doesn’t differ much from mine, if at all. And yet, they have a different experience. So it has to do something with my internal world. With the choice…”

This awakened a sense of relief. That heavy, compressing feeling in her chest lifted.“I’m gonna take a chance. I’m gonna do better. I’m gonna choose to be happy and content.”