I have this candle that I absolutely love. Every time I smell it I just want to jump in it, live in it.
Of course, it’s now discontinued.
It’s Magnolia brand Cardamom and Vetiver, not that I’m gratuitously promoting anything here. Can’t promote something that’s freaking discontinued. But the aroma of this candle is something I could do a trust fall into.
Fall into and be cradled by every single day.
But then if I was around it everyday, I’d eventually stop smelling it. You become immune to smells after a while.
And then I wouldn’t appreciate it anymore.
But I super, extra appreciate it now.
Why oh why, once I find something I like, like really like, it leaves me?
This candle is such a fucking sad metaphor. I didn’t even start this writing out that way. I just wanted to write about how much I love the smell of this fucking candle.
Then my hypersensitive brain takes over and my love for metaphors takes over and here we are.
Anyway, metaphor tangent aside, don’t you just love how a certain scent can make you go AHHHH? How it can comfort you, exhilarate you or remind you of the best time of your life? How it can evoke memories and feelings and bring life again to stories of old?
Even the ones you don’t want to remember.
I was at work the other day and a quick pass by a customer instantly transported me back to 4th grade. In a split second this man’s pungent cologne hurled me back in time, and I was 9 years old again.
Yeah, this wasn’t a good smell. But I remembered the last time I smelled it.
There I was again in 4th grade, walking back to class after assembly or fire drill or something and my teacher pulled me out of line to talk to me.
“How is everything at home?”
How the fuck did he know my parents were getting divorced?
“I’m fine, everything’s fine”, even though you just literally separated me from the group to point out how I was now different. I was the first kid I knew of in my class whose parents were getting divorced.
And now everyone else knew it.
All while my nostrils were burning from this god awful smell that was in the hallway that day. I don’t know what it was–a mix of bad cologne, probably since-banned caustic public school janitorial cleaner and a splash of Eau de Outcast.
My nose will never forget it.
Smells have a way of doing that, permanently seeping into the deep recesses of your brain, even the parts you don’t want to go to.
And this acridity didn’t let me forget for the rest of that day. I felt like it followed me all day long. Or was it just the memories that did?
So I came home from work ruminating as usual and filled the air with Cardamom and Vetiver and tried to reset. When I die, I imagine this is what Heaven smells like.
Take a whiff, all will be well now.
And it was. The perfume from the glass of wine I had didn’t hurt either. Things are well because I’m not afraid of being an outcast anymore like I was in that 4th grade hallway. Though that bitter smell triggered a painful memory it also reminded me to embrace who I am.
What scents permeate your soul? What triggers your biggest grin or your largest tear? Hard to describe a scent sometimes. Even harder to describe how a chance waft of it makes you feel.
All this ruminating from one little smell today.
It’s not just the little things in life, it’s the little smells in life.
❤️
CM
4/19/24
