Does Scent Help You Write?
What Are You Smelling?
I’ve not paid a whole lot of attention to scents in the last few years. Other than food. Scents are very important as far as food is concerned. I didn’t realize how important that one was until I lost it briefly as a result of a nasty bout with Covid the year before last. I have it back now, mostly.
But something else happened during my dance with Covid. My sinuses dried up, which is a good thing. They’re still pretty normal — a blessing. I seem to sneeze more, but maybe I’m just being sensitive. Here is another thing. I don’t have BO. I can’t smell it. Maybe I should stick my foot or raise my arm for my husband’s opinion. I wonder what he would think? He hasn’t said anything.
As part of the finishing up of this piece, I asked my husband to sniff me this morning. I showed him my neckline, and he obligingly took a deep sniff and said I smelled fine. He was in a hurry to get out the door, so I didn’t have the opportunity to explain why I made that odd request. I hope he thinks of me during the day, but that is neither here nor there. It was just a moment.
Specifically, how are morning smells important to you as a writer? The smell of my first cup of coffee is important to me. It is a part of the coming awake process. I could do pretty much anything to be ready to apply myself to writing, but I think it is sort of sweet to set the stage.
I wasn’t in a hurry this morning because I’d just spent the night cleaning in my dreams. It was not all that pleasant. Cleaning is not my thing. Now that I am older, I have to use one of those long-armed grabby things to get into the corners. It is too much bother, so I don’t. I just make sure I take my glasses off, so I can’t see it. Unless it is moving, I’m not all that interested.
Sorry, I am a slob.
I had mostly forgotten about it, but I have a small vial of Sandalwood oil. It’s one of those roller ball deals, and I put some on my wrist. It smells so nice, and I am taking larger than normal breaths just because it is so nice. I used to use it as part of my writing. Then, I must have forgotten.
I wore scent years ago, but as we got older, my husband became more sensitive to it, so I stopped — nothing like making your husband start retching. Also, where I live, people over the years have been asking that you not enter their places of business wearing scent. Mostly, doctor’s offices, but there are other places. I actually hate to be blasted with someone else’s scent so strong that it even knocks my socks off.
I did a little research online just now, and there appear to be lots of places where you can’t wear scent, where I live in California. Adding to doctor’s offices and hospitals are movie theaters, state and county meeting places, schools, and some workplaces, though employers are required in California at least to provide a fragrance-free zone for people who say they have issues with smelling other people’s scents.
Even though I’m enjoying my sandalwood, it is a mite strong. I just washed my wrists, but the scent is still lingering. I know it will wear off by the time my husband returns home, so this would be a morning-only thing for me.
I just asked for my cats’ opinions.
If I ever get to actually talking to them, I’ll have to ask if they mind. I just put my wrists in front of all three of the cats. As far as I could tell, Stanley didn’t care. Molly did not care for it, and Millie had to shake her head and leave. I wonder what they really said? But, like I said, right now, I can’t talk to them. I’ll put a link below to a lady who teaches folks how to talk to their animals.
It is interesting, but 24 hours after I applied the Sandalwood, I can still smell it. Now, it is subtle. Very subtle. Nobody would know that I had used it yesterday — nobody but me.
I closed my eyes:
I am out in the garden. Or rather, this is a meadow. It is so large. The grass is two feet tall. There are honeybees here and there. I can see birds in the sky. The clouds are puffy. I love puffy clouds. Who am I? I am ten. I have freckles. My hair is red. It’s in pigtails — two of them beside my head. My mother made them for me this morning. I went and gathered the eggs this morning. Our three hens aren’t laying as much, so I only found two.
Thanks for reading.
The Links:
What I am smelling: Sandalwood
What I am Listening to: Andare from Spotify. Seven minutes to transport me off to an earlier time. Was it me? I don’t know. It was me in the vision.
Talking to the animals: Penelope Smith