I quit smoking on some day in April 2019. It was in a city in Hebei province, and I felt acutely that my throat had been severely damaged by over a decade of smoking. I resolved to quit, and I haven't smoked since — perhaps technically I've had one or two, but for all practical purposes I've completely quit. After extensive study, I found I still cannot recover the vocal range of my youth — that may be a memory from before my voice changed, which in turn reminds me of the self-loathing I felt during my voice change, that awful sensation of performing the role of a person. Anyway, I did recover partial function in my lower register. The range that was previously completely silent became accessible again, though at this point it's not a particularly significant gain — after all, I'm not a singer.
The marvelous thing about this experience is that I felt the power of "resolve." As a child, I often heard people writing in essays or elsewhere about how they had "resolved" to do this or that, and I thought it was just a figure of speech. Turns out it's real. I am now quite certain I've quit smoking. There are cigarettes in my house, a lighter right beside them, and I feel no fear. I'm not afraid of reaching for one, or even putting it in my mouth. Even if I were to light it and draw the smoke in, it would no longer be a habit that controls me. This truly brings a sense of lightness and ease to body and mind. But I have too many vices; on the whole, I remain quite muddled.
Recently I've also cut out late-night snacks, which has dramatically improved how my body feels — much lighter. I've discovered that the crux of the problem is not hunger but craving. Beyond basic sustenance and nutrition, what we eat is primarily a matter of desire. This is commonplace — more often than not, we're not actually hungry. Honestly, how often does anyone go hungry these days? It is a kind of dissatisfaction, a belief that stuffing in some food will alleviate what is in fact an ever-intensifying dissatisfaction. Craving and aversion are close friends. I've heard that people in Nanjing love to talk about "chopping duck" — this is of course first and foremost about eating, but when what you crave is an animal, it leads to killing. This connection is not merely objective — meaning, it's not simply a case of "I have no choice, I just want to eat, I don't want to kill." Look at the language: "chopping duck." Is that appropriate? It not only chops the duck in fact but chops the duck in spirit, and the latter is crucial. Day after day, it erodes our hearts and turns us into the parents from Spirited Away. I believe the heaviness of meat-eating and the lightness of vegetarianism are not accidental — not determined by the nature of the food. It possesses a certain spiritual essence: it is, in fact, the taste of craving. The more craving you consume, the harder it is to satisfy. As the saying goes, "The more extravagant, the more insatiable." Why? Because that is simply the nature of the thing. When I used to smoke, I observed other smoking friends — some would try all sorts of odd tobacco: pipe tobacco, chewing tobacco, and so on. This is a manifestation of growing tolerance to weaker pleasures (the objects of craving, and therefore essentially craving itself).
So abstinence is of great importance. From abstinence arises concentration; from concentration arises wisdom.