Smoke Signals : The Ultimate Lie of being a "Productive Stoner"

For years, I called myself a “productive stoner.”

And technically, I was. I ran a business. I answered emails, wrote and sent out difficult contracts, etc. I got up every day, went to work, kept things moving. I could function while high — I often relied on it, actually. I remember telling myself (and other people) how lucky I was that I could smoke weed and still get everything done. Like it was some secret life hack.

But when I really looked closer, the truth was… I wasn’t doing nearly as much as I thought. I’m only starting to realize this now. When I took "T-breaks" in the past, it was always about “getting to the finish line,” not really reflecting on the how and the why I used weed the way I did.

Sure, I was working and getting things done — but that’s pretty much all I was doing. I’d get through the day, come home, and keep smoking to maintain what I thought was an ideal, “comfortable” state. But it wasn’t. It was just a version of myself that didn’t feel too much of anything. Not good, not bad. Just flatlined in a way that felt safe.

And while I stayed focused on what was getting done — I completely overlooked everything that wasn’t.

I wasn’t growing. I wasn’t building new skills or investing in myself outside of the bare essentials. I wasn’t creating things I was proud of. I wasn’t prioritizing real connection. I wasn’t spending quality time with people I love. I wasn’t reflecting or daydreaming or imagining new futures.

And even though I had more creative thoughts than usual (especially with a good strain), I wasn’t acting on them. I wasn’t making anything. I wasn’t following the idea past the moment it arrived.

I was also missing out on a lot of emotional processing — and emotional presence — because I wasn’t really sitting with anything. Not my stress, or sadness, or joy. Even the happy moments passed me by because I was dulled out. Not in a dramatic way — just in that comfortable, quiet kind of numbness.

I was actually gardening one day — not TikTok-smoking-a-joint-in-overalls gardening, but really nurturing my plants — and I probably got a little too eager. I started spending more and more time out there, and in my excitement, I overwatered my squash.

Which true gardeners know is a no-no.

Because if the soil doesn’t drain properly, the plant can’t absorb the water. The roots get soggy and suffocate. Instead of thriving, the plant wilts.

And it hit me:

I am my squash plant, with an owner too eager and without a balanced approach.

If my body hadn’t processed and cleared the THC from all the previous smoke sessions, how could I expect to absorb the next one in a positive way? Or the next creative idea? Or the next meaningful moment? Turns out, I couldn’t. Without knowing it, I was getting bogged down because I was overwatering myself (with weed, lol).

How could I expect to grow, to bear fruit, to feel anything — if I was constantly flooding my system without ever letting anything fully land?

Just because I thought I worked better high… or felt better high… didn’t mean it was true.

Especially when I had forgotten what it felt like to just be in my body, unfiltered. To actually feel my feelings. I’m only now dipping my toes into what that’s actually like.

Weed gave me a sense of calm — but it wasn’t real. It was more like duct tape over a slow leak. It kept things running for a while, but it was never meant to hold that much. Eventually, it peels back, it stops working, and now I’m figuring out and unpacking all the feelings (good and bad) that I dulled out with weed. It’s actually kind of exciting — like a new kind of “high” in a way. I’m trying to approach it all differently. Not from shame or regret, but from curiosity.

What happens when I let myself actually feel things? If I had stopped to feel all those happy moments and celebrate, would I have more self-confidence? Would I have less self-doubt? Something tells me I would.

So this year, I’m committed to pausing instead of puffing right when a feeling strikes.

I’m certainly not a pro at this yet, but I’m finding it’s a lot easier than I was always so afraid of. And honestly, I’ve realized weed can feel a little one-note sometimes — after a while of excessive use, it all just gets muted into the same vibe.

Other herbs feel different. They’re gentler, and they actually enhance whatever you’re feeling instead of dulling it. Like if I’m anxious, I’ll reach for something calming, like mullein or blue lotus, and it feels like I’m actually soothing the anxiety — not just covering it up. If I’m feeling happy, I can smoke something heart-opening, like damiana or rose, and lean into the joy instead of flattening it out. If I’m sad, I can choose something grounding, like wild dagga, and just let myself sit with it.

Instead of reaching for one thing for every emotion, I’m finally tailoring the ritual — and it’s making me feel more like myself, not less.