The Memory of Scent

As I work on integrating this blog with my business, you can expect more lengthy wordy sorts of posts. Posts that will help tell you what I do as an herbal and intuitive healer.

I work with scent. A lot with scent. I think I always have. When I am thinking of teas to start working on one of the ways that I know I am on the right track is that I smell it. It does not matter where I am, I will smell the new thing I am working on and that is how I know it is done.

Scent is a powerful trigger. It reminds of us of good times and bad. The smell of a heirloom rose can remind us of the neighbor who used to babysit. We all have experienced our mouth watering at the scent of a well cooked meal. I would bet that most of us remember the smell of loved ones.

One of my first memories of scent is that of my grandmothers house. But not just her house. A very small tiny part of her house. One that reminds me of being safe. My grandmother had a gigantic king sized bed. When we visited I would nap there. The head board was where she kept some nick-nacks and perfume bottles and books and all the things one would keep on a head board. As a toddler I would play with them all. One of the perfumes was a paste style that was housed in a tiny little decorative birds nest. I would open it and smell it all the time.

And long ago when we were out and about running errands there was an explosion. We were actually quite close to where it happened. I remember watching the smoke and the fire. I remember turning around and going home to listen to the news. There was concern about future explosions and poison gas. So the news told us to stay away from windows. So they put us children down for a nap in grandma's room. I was 7 and too old to nap, but still to young to be in the glass filled living room of my grandmothers house. And I think it made my mother feel better to have me in with my younger siblings and cousin.

I was concerned. I had listened to Mom and Grammie talk. They could not get a hold of Dad. Or my aunt. So I calmed myself with smelling all of Grammies perfume. The little  bird nest was my favorite.

I still own the little bird nest. It sits on the desk in my studio. And when I am stressed I still sit with it and smell it. It still smells. It smells like Grammies, and saftey. And it reminds me of all of the things that Grammie means.

Healing is about finding what is good and whole and safe in us. That little bird nest is where I started.

Wintering

The weather is doing what it does this time of year, here in the Willamette valley. The nights turn chilly, the days cool off, and the mornings are filled with fog. Many of the days are rainy and drizzly (which I love, by the way). This morning I was awakened at 5 am because of a pretty rowdy thunderstorm.

At our house the change in seasons means getting together the winter tea stock. Harvesting the mint plants and hanging them to dry, Vyapti going out and harvesting lavender from a friend, and going to the Kiva market to get the rest of what we need. What started a couple of years ago with me trying to make sure we had pre-made teas that would help comfort you if you had a cold,or if your stomach was upset, has become having well over 20 herbs and spices in nicely labeled containers. I have spent the last couple of days writing up lists of ailments and the corresponding mix to help. This list and a list of herbs and what they work with will be placed in the pantry.

Already, I have had to concoct a mix to help a child that came home from school early with a stomach ailment. This afternoon, my home smelled of chamomile and mint. Somehow, this new home is more conducive to having all of these different things stored away, and it seems to be very welcoming of healing work.

K