Smelling Change

It’s not here yet and I don’t know when it will be here but I sense that something good is on its way. I’m not sure what it is but I do have an idea and believe me, I am running on instinct only. Call it intuition but I’m smiling for the first time in a very long time.

Pretty flowers. Pungent smell (Photo credit: Zaqqy J.)

There’s a very good possibility that I could be wrong. Is there a chance I might be disappointed? Absolutely. Am I still going to publish this? In the past no, but now, definitely.

I take chances now.

I’ll start over and again if it doesn’t happen, I’ll just learn from the experience. Something good will happen sometime. If it isn’t this month or next it will be next year. Something is changing or about to change and I feel the it; I have the oddest feeling inside of me.

Remember the image of Mary Poppins putting her finger up to the sky feeling changes? That’s how I feel. My nose seemed to feel a scent that was different today, true, the weather was hot and sticky yesterday and today we are all shivering from the cold but I don’t think that’s it. I picked up on something, If it wasn’t hope, it was something else, something that is new or that I don’t know about, yet.

I’m patient.

English: Screenshot of Julie Andrews from the trailer for the film Mary Poppins (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I feel okay about this, I don’t feel terrified that I am going to jinx it, like I would have in the past nor do I feel stupid expressing my feelings even if they are just daydreams.

I feel proud for expressing my feelings for something so dubious.

Maybe I will feel disappointed if things change and I go deep into another sorrowful place. Then, I should remember that it took courage for me to even write something that was so personal and out of my comfort zone, that I put the words on this paper, hit “publish” and went ahead. No big deal.

I have lived in fear for too much of my life; it feels good to let go of every piece that I can.

I am buoyant, I can fly, sometimes it’s murky and cloudy, sometimes it’s brilliant and clear.

Whatever the weather, I’m still going to try.

‘Clear Blue Skies’ – Trwyn Du, Anglesey (Photo credit: Adrian Kingsley-Hughes)

 

Plinky Prompt: Favorite Smell

• Humans have strong scent memory. What’s your favorite smell, and what does it make you think of? See all answers

• Edit answer |
• October 18, 2012 by hibernationnow

• Sniff, Sniff
• Delicious
  vanilla-scents-perfumes-coconut-oil Pachouli Oil or Vanilla Oil.
  Makes me thing of college, being young, free, listening to music with friends, not having any responsibilities. Flirting, dancing, being a young adult, not a hippie but close enough. We would wear the oil on our wrists and feel cool. It’s so old there is no photo of it here! This was in the seventies, many years ago. But, the memory of it still makes me smile. After that, I moved on to Vanilla, which made me feel like I smelled like sugar cookies all day long and people would comment on that all the time. Once in a while I still wear a vanilla scented oil or perfume and it still makes me happy.

Scents that Evoke Memories…

Image via Wikipedia

Cream And Cologne

The scent of Nivea cream brings back immediate memories of my young mother dipping her delicate fingers in the beautiful blue jar of white, fluffy cream. She would dab it on her face, while I, a young girl, looked on. My mom looked like a movie star to me as she blended the sweet-smelling cream on her cheeks and forehead and smiling face. The beautiful blue jar alone looked pretty and special and the lotion smelled like almonds and ocean and fresh air. It felt rich and luxurious, like heavy cream and velvet blended together. I grew up calling it Ni-vey-ah and of course, thought that was the name of it. It wasn’t until I saw a television commercial years ago that I realized it was pronounced Niv-ee-a.

I didn’t know, growing up, that my parents had European accents and that my sister and I were brought up with European manners, which was a big deal to our parents and apparently different from our American friends. We also repeated things that we heard from our parents as our friends giggled mercilessly; we didn’t know any other way. To this day I still mispronounce some words to the merriment of my own children who, of course, know everything better and correct me right away.

When I smell a man’s cologne (or shaving lotion as my dad called it), I think of my father, when he was alive, picking an after shave cologne from his collection of 13 different bottles that stood on a shelf like soldiers. Sometimes, he put on so much we said he smelled like a “perfume factory” which didn’t bother him one tiny bit. He was proud of his distinct, and different scents from all over the world. Even though he has been dead ten years, I still miss the smell of his cologne. It’s like the world is only one dimensional now, the scent of smell forgotten. Sometimes I will dab on an old cologne of my father’s on my wrists but it doesn’t smell the same. That smell, like everything else that made him my dad, was lost and buried years ago.