✿Noticing the small things✿ *sniff sniff*

I don’t know what to write, but I still want to write something. A few days ago, as I was browsing the ol’ web, I came across a comment left on a post about someone who was complaining about the same thing as I am right now. She said to try and blurb words out no matter how bad it is; gibberish is allowed too, as long as you don’t stop writing. That seems simple enough; after all, my brain is basically a fish market. I cannot stop thinking about nothing and everything all at once. Sound like a nightmare? It is. Honestly though (not to be cliché), I’ve always seen the good in things, and that too applied to the haggling fights my thoughts get into for a piece of my attention—my sweet, sweet attention. I’m blanking again; let’s try stirring my rusted memory pot and pull out something interesting that happened. It doesn’t have to be particularly bad or good, just something that made me think and ponder. Nothing really special happened today, but I did wake up to a surprise.

I went on an olfactory journey this morning. That start was unexpected, but it did leave me thinking about smells and how they influence me so easily—and you too, obviously. It made me appreciate something about myself and of being alive on this chaotic earth.

5:30 AM, I turn over, muffling as I’m being suffocated by the silk bonnet that managed to slip and decided to take revenge on me. I’m guessing for the time I wiped my right armpit with it, or that other time when it was the tablecloth under my onion rings. I yank it off and toss it aside. Free at last, I rest my lids again, not closed shut but as if it were a mere soft kiss between two waterlines. Yearning to take my first fresh morning breath, slowly starting off my nostril pumps, I breathe in so softly and deeply, feeling my lungs puff up slowly like some mattress. Waiting for that moment—you know what I’m talking about! The stretch? The yawn? I feel it coming. “Oh, I’m really enjoying this moment,” I try thinking aloud before—! A JOLT.

All that calmness shattered, gone. Breath held. Eyes sprang open. I stood up so fast, as though I had just heard the field officer scream for formation in the days of my military service. My thoughts finally caught up to the reaction. “What was that smell?” Still keeping that breath hostage, I try to recall the notes I picked up. A whiff of smokiness… way too strong for comfort. That explains my dramatic reaction then. I let my breath go, thinking it might be a cord or a wire that sparked or burned. I was sniffling about like a pig hunting for truffles. As I moved around the room, the notes got more intense. I open my bedroom door; sniff sniff—is that firewood? I’m smelling BBQ, and pictures of charcoal are forming in my head. “Who the fuck is BBQing at 5 AM in the morning?!?!!?” I thought to myself, relieved that I found the source so I could be reassured it is not coming from my place. A very dumb thought in hindsight, but shut up; I had just woken up. Leave me alone!

I drag myself to the bath to start my morning routine. Washing and skincare first, then my makeup, and finally, I put on some clothes: a black maxi skirt and an oversized purple shirt that I hair-tie-crop-topped—nothing too crazy. Morning music playing on my phone that rests on my Nikita Dragun eyeshadow palette, which was also awkwardly balanced still on top of some round makeup brushes thrown on the sink top; kettle gargling and rumbling in the background, the footsteps of the landlords upstairs, the bird outside chirping—I take it all in and notice, all while in front of the mirror.

Now, my favorite step of my morning: is being blessed enough to just get to feel and love my hair this much. I massage my scalp for a minute or two, and then I take my pink wet brush to detangle any mess. After that, I open the wooden doors of the little cabinet on the right side of the bathroom wall next to the sink mirror. Bottles of oils fill up the first shelf. “Mint”—hmm, no; “orange”—nah; “rose”—not today. Then there she was, waiting for me to look at her, just knowing her grip on me. “Jasmine”… I can’t resist Jasmine; I can’t say no to her. So, I grab the bottle out, and as I twist the dropper cap open, instantly, she gets to me. I feel her saying, “Is this what you wanted?” and I give in to her with full enjoyment, goddammit. A punch of just rich and consuming jasmine—not like any though. This specific oil has a very warm, almost hot and tropical feel to it. Torridness in the most alluring, pleasantly unexpected way. The closer I take my nose, the more I start picking up the smallest hints of moss and dark green. Get too close to the bottle, and you’ll start to enter faint dung-territory (more on that in future blogs). I take the dropper and empty it whole in the bottle. I want nothing more than the smallest dab of residue the empty dropper’ll leave on my hand. To that, I add a couple of jojoba oil drops. I lather it in my hands for a bit to mix and warm up, then I lather that blend into my hair until my mids and ends are nice ’n soft ’ and shiny. Now, every time I play with or touch my hair, or when I let it down after work, I get this subtle sigh of jasmine, which definitely lifts my mood.

Behind all that in the background, it’s still there. I noticed it and have been for a while now. Still lingering, snooping on my jasmine affair—that darn smoke! Anticipation for the waft of smells I’ll get when I open that door is boiling up, but I still need my bag ready and my shoes on. I can’t just cheat and go smell it outside and come back! I need the first impression to be proper.

I went on to fix my morning cup of tea, took a pouch of Moroccan mint tea and plopped it in my pink ceramic mug. Grabbed the honey, and opened it to be welcomed by this sweet glistening sticky golden aroma that hugs your nose, almost sparkly in essence. Added a teaspoon of it, and poured the hot water into the mug. Normally, I’d be zapped with the cool, fresh, yet delicate and minty aromas, and I’d bask my nose in them early in the morning; it freshens your spirit up for the day. But this ashy charred quality of the air was very hard to ignore, especially in contrast to the bright green fresh notes of mint! I had to get it over with; I needed to get out there and see if someone’s house was on fire!

I put my socks and shoes on, dark pink scrunchie on one arm, fixed up my bangs with a clip, and put my big headphones on—finally ready. My door has a window on it, and as I’m walking towards it, I notice what looks to be fog? My eyes still scanning outside as I twist the handle and open the door. I took a step out, and this cloud of heavy and damp burned odour invaded my senses. I can see, smell, AND taste it. Traces of many different smoked camphorous smells (think pine, cider, earthy green, and herbal smells). The mountains and giant redwoods that normally greet me every morning were covered by this smoky haze. Then it was just obvious it was a wildfire; it’s almost August, so it’s the wildfire season after all. The mystery is solved, I guess. Still, though, I’m glad I got to experience this today. It was like the feeling you get in a paint store: imagine going to an aisle that has samples of browns, dark greens, greys, and blacks. That, but the olfactory version of the experience. It was exactly that; I could recognize the subtle differences in dryness or tarriness in the aromas, or the different herbal and nutty notes, but I had no idea what they were or what their source might be—like browsing the colours without knowing their names.

If by any chance someone actually reached this point and also happens to be from Canada, go outside and sniff away when it blazes out there! I mean, I’m not saying go breathe in fire smoke, but just start being aware of the notes that will make themselves known regardless. Even if you’re not from Canada! To be alive is to experience and take in the world around us, and we do so with our five senses. Smell gets a bad rap out of the five, but it is the most intimate and direct of all. Let me explain:     when you see something, you’re only seeing the image your brain puts together with light reflected off a thing, and when you hear a sound, it’s your ears picking up waves of air pressure movements influenced by a thing. But to smell something, you take in volatile particles of it through your nose directly to your brain, so that thing literally becomes part of your being. Without smell, you’d also only be limited to taste the five flavours: sweet, salty, sour, bitter, and umami!

 It takes no more effort than just noticing and observing what you’re smelling, creating a brain smell-log each time you come across something new. It will truly enhance your lived experience to observe the world from a ’new' perspective. Don’t be afraid to use your nose! When cutting a fruit, vegetable, or herb, notice the smells and vibes you get from them. What do they make you think of? Do they remind you of anything?  Walking next to a bakery, stop and smell the sweet pastry aromas. Maybe go inside to take in the toasty goodness accompanied by yeasty funk and dry, powdery puffs of flour. Trust me you'll surprise yourself when you start recognising a plethora of different scents on your own! 

Whatever this morning had for me, it reminded me of the impact our senses have on our lives, and how we perceive the world through them. Remember: you only live your present moment, for the future remains unknown, and the past is but a recollection of experiences. Ultimately, you are shaped by these experiences. So why not make the most of this small window of time that you get, to fully be? To further experience this world around you, to get to know yourself better and, in turn, sharpen your taste in things in the long run. You’ll find that even amidst chaos, there’s beauty in the simplest things, it just needs to be observed,.

So stop and smell that flower; it definitely wants to smell you back. ;)

-❥Lumi