Change becomes a way of life

On my other blog, I wrote a nice piece about quitting smoking. I spoke of the intense personal process I used to forever change the habit. It worked so well that 16 years later, I still automatically use the technique when dealing with old triggers.
I used to be a skier. I would be pushing really hard, skiing hard and fast. I'd be in the lift line, waiting to jump on a chairlift. Suddenly, I had to light up. Didn't know why, but had to have one.
Some kind soul pointed out the trigger when they said to me: You know, you didn't really want one until you smelled someone else's smoke. How right he was.
So we went to the Snoqualmie Casino the other night to check it out. Rumor was the place stank of smoke. Rumor, as it happens, is confirmed. And the one restaurant deep inside which is smoke free claimed that the casino recycles their air every 20 minutes. That leaves 20 minutes of smoker's stale, stinky smoke. It was bad. I don't really care that they recycle their air. It still stinks.
But my point is that 16 years after I gave up the habit, it is harder and harder to be around smokers. I chose to quit and I don't want to inhale the smoke of someone else. I don't want to walk past someone as they exhale into my breathing space. I chose to quit.
It is inadvertent on their part, but it happens.
One of my old techniques to remind myself how glad i am that I freed myself of this habit kicked right back in. It's a simple technique, putting little fingers and thumbs together, but immediately, instead of being mad at the smokers, I fell into a space of " boy, I'm glad I don't do that anymore" ....
That space of being grateful for my own accomplishment (with help of God) is far more beneficial than being anything else. Keeping the focus on me means that I can allow you to do what you want.
Now, I won't go back there for a long time, if at all. But that is my choice. I've no reason to go.