Looking at my hands gripping the steering wheel, I couldn’t believe I was driving towards the weed store.
My mind was still. There was no lashing, no ‘shoulds’ nor ‘shouldn’ts’, no hopeless inner dialogue.
There was no self-condemnation nor sense of doom, as I drove straight through the prayer and pulled into the parking lot while asking God to take away the craving.
Strong emotion was overpowering me, only ten days after I sat for weeks meditating up to ten hours a day, to purify and liberate my mind.
But things were different. I noticed that my mind was quiet and instead of tearing myself to shreds, I witnessed my actions from the edge of my seat like in a horror flick.
“I haven’t seen you in here for a while!” The uncle at the counter said.
“I know,” I replied distraught. I sat on one of the gray chairs lined up against the wall and waited for my turn while Uncle packed a bag of goodies for a client.
—Shit—
It was no coincidence that I’d just started doing a fresh round of steps again, and got to read with my own handwriting the answer to the question that had kept me stuck in a cycle of addiction for decades.
—After being clean for some time, what mindset preceded the relapse?—
“I am just going to smoke once”.
The famous last words were the biggest LIE.
Step One had made it clear. It was NEVER just once. In fact, the just-one-more-time sometimes evolved into Three Years Later…
The client thanked uncle and joyfully left the store as I stayed glued to the chair sitting on my hands.
The meditation camp had been grueling, I had developed incredible abilities and arrived for the first time at the mighty throne of self compassion.
It was thanks to the girl with the annoying coughing tic who God sat right behind me. How I hated her every time she interrupted my silent flow. For the first three days of the silent retreat, her tic made my hands tense into fists and my whole body cringe.
How I tried with my whole heart to forgive her, to feel compassion, to witness my aversion and my reaction. I sat immobile for days, focused and devoted. But by day eight, I came to an understanding, —I couldn’t fucking feel compassionate. I wanted to turn around and scream at her to shut up—
It was in that moment, that a lightning hit my consciousness and said, “It’s ok.”
Warm tears rolled down my cheeks as something said, “It is good enough, it’s ok if you can’t do it.” When I was finally able to honor my efforts, a warm wave of love flooded my being with acceptance.
For the first time in my life I felt compassion for myself, and like magic, her tic completely stopped bothering me.
My efforts to feel love for the other, had been nil until, I felt love for myself.
The most annoying girl had turned into the biggest blessing, and thanks to her, I got to experience the wisdom of impermanence.
“Anicca” means CHANGE, everything changes. My ignorance had me trying to accept things forever, where the only place I had to accept everything was NOW.
“Ok uncle,” I said as I took some cash from my pocket, “I just don’t want to get hooked again, I’m very overwhelmed today so I just want to buy one. Can you promise me that you won’t sell me any more weed tomorrow?”
Uncle nodded, we shook hands and he offered, “I’ll give you this one for free.” His offer reminded me of the heroin dealers that always give the first dose to a new-to-be junkie for free.
“No thanks, I want to buy it.” I said, as I watched him slip the fat joint into a plastic tube container. I wanted no gifts. I was to take full responsibility for throwing all my efforts away and getting myself imprisoned back into the weed dungeon.
“Why do you want to stop?” he asked me curiously.
“Because it makes me feel guilty and it turns me into a slave ,” I started, “ it makes me feel like a hypocrite, I feel like I am not living up to my potential. It weakens me.”
Uncle let me know that he doesn’t smoke either, he just sells the medicine. Then we started to talk about heartache, and about God and when he asked me how I was feeling, I noticed that pouring my heart out was making me feel better.
In that moment, a whisper of thought breezed through me —Run—
Followed by a flashback of the words of Jesus that I read in the morning, “If your eye makes you stumble, throw it away.”
My entire life I had to fight for my freedom, and I still had it as I caught a glimpse of my reflection standing before the glass bongs and packs of edibles.
My mind was still, I was a tiger and the joint was the familiar horrid cage.
—Run—
A new client arrived and uncle got distracted. Suddenly I threw uncle a Shaka and ran out the door.
“Thanks, uncle!”
And like that, I drove to Starbucks with my heart beating louder than the roar of the highway. My wild hair flew in front of my face while the green palms danced in the wind, I could almost hear the angels sing.
After getting a Lavender Oat-milk Latte, I found a meeting nearby and sat on a green wood bench among seven people feeling incredibly blessed.
My efforts bore fruit. I smelled my first spring blossom. The devil was pissed and my angels had plucked me out from the store. Here I was, with no more shame, with no more guilt, with nothing to hide.
After countless hours of practice at the meditation camp and all the heartfelt prayers, the seed of self love had sprouted. My deep rooted habit of seeking validation externally had withered and a new sense of HOPE was running the show.
Why I ran out from the store?
Because I want to live a better life.
Because I want to be good enough, in my own eyes.
Thank you God…
I love you, too.