The Elements of Style
I've always kept a copy of Strunk and White's "The Elements of Style" close at hand ever since my first English Comp I course in college. I still keep a copy in my office today and use it often. Reading over it this week, it got me thinking about how it might, or more appropriately might not apply to the way things are done at KTC.
Our quit(s) is not a matter of style. The way we quit isn't a stylistic approach to quitting nicotine--it's a strategy that has been proven time and time again. Here at KTC, people come and go. They test drive the truck for a little while before deciding altogether that they'd rather have a car, and then, poof--they're gone. The "style" of quit here is hardcore. Cold turkey. Leave it behind and post a daily promise that you won't pick it up for the next 24 hours; and then honor your word. Be honorable. Have integrity.
"Drinking the kool-aid" isn't a transformation process of how you speak; the words you use; being harsh or not. It's a group of small puzzle pieces--important, but not complete. It's a personal choice to subscribe to a different way of thinking about how to quit. Several folks have said it before and the saying goes, "Take what you need and leave the rest." That saying is true, and it's good, but only after a nice tall glass of grape kool-aid. You can't take what you need if you don't know what you need. That kool-aid helps you to KNOW what you need to quit.
If I could tell the new blood just a few things about the first 100 days it would be this:
KTC didn't dip for you and KTC can't quit for you. You can't quit until you want to be quit (trust me, I know how cliche that sounds). If you post and ghost, why are you here? You want to be quit? Good. Do it. KTC is tight brotherhood that keeps you accountable to your word, your promise, as long as you want to be quit and are quitting. Most importantly, it's every day. Every. Single. Day. Your daily promise isn't a renewal of your word from yesterday and you can't post-date it for tomorrow. It's a new promise each time you sign your name on the roll and it's only good for 24 hours. Like a parking meter--you don't renew the quarter you already dropped in the slot; you drop a new quarter in to buy your time.
Just some late night rambling here. I thought it might be good to jot it down somewhere and then stumble across it later. Maybe some anonymous visitor will stumble across it and decide to take the plunge because of it. Who knows? All I know is that I'm quit today, regardless of style.