The storm Glenda/Rammasun has come and passed, and it’s time to pick up the pen again, and get to writing. Ah, truly, the rain doesn’t do too well for my writing. However, I find that yesterday’s Daily Post prompt to be right in my alley:
From the yeasty warmth of freshly baked bread to the clean, summery haze of lavender flowers, we all have favorite smells we find particularly comforting. What’s yours?
I’ve always been fascinated as to how smells trigger the most vivid of memories and emotions, seeing as to how our sense of smell is closely linked to our subconscious. Quoting from The Science of Smell:
“Smell is rather different from the other senses, as it has a strong, subconscious input to the brain,” says [Professor Tim] Jacobs. “Studies have been done to try and find out which sense has the most power to evoke memory and emotion. Music can have a powerful effect, but smell has been found to be the most potent stimulus for evoking memory and the emotions associated with it.”
I miss my mother whenever I catch a whiff of Chanel’s Allure, or Cacharel’s Anaïs-Anaïs. I think of my mother’s and my grandmother’s simpler beauty regimen’s when I smell Revlon’s classic lipstick. I’m brought back to my days as a struggling working student when I smell particular colognes from Penshoppe and Maldita. Then I remember bad relationship decisions whenever I smell Tide detergent on clothes.
Comfort for me, evokes the absence of stress with no hint of worry on my mind. It also calls upon the trust I place in a person and that I feel, well, comfortable with them…
The smell of fresh brewing coffee, regardless of the time of day, reminds me that I’m not alone — that I am with people I trust, whom I feel safe with, and whom I can share a cup of coffee with. Same as the smell of a shower after someone has used it — their shampoo, their soap; these are people I care about and whom I share living space with.
The smell of cooking rice — it’s distinct, and you know for a fact that it’s rice, and you feel comfort that once you reach that space where the rice is, you will be eating :9 . Bonus points for the aroma of freshly boiling sinigang, or simmering adobo. Extra bonus points because you know that you’ll be eating with the person who prepared them.
While I profess to be more of a sun person, I enjoy the scent of the rain — wet grass, wet soil, wet concrete. Combine this with the light perfume of your nest of warm linen — a mix of fabric softener, and that person scent (you, in your territory; or of that someone you share your bed with) — not much else can evoke a blissful sigh from me.
Comfort in smells remind me of home, of safety, and of the people I love.