Wake up and smell the coffee
When your day starts at three in the morning, it’s amazing what you can accomplish. There’s gazing at the 14 stacks of books, folders, and magazines you need to organize (without actually organizing them), or staring down heaps of unfolded laundry with a little smile, knowing they make fine art installations, so why not leave them until another day? Of course, the mere process of imagining eliminating the stacks or folding the jeans, sweaters, and towels lends itself to an overwhelming desire to run away from home, or to dig in, and see what hardwood floors resemble (would I remember?) or to reacquaint myself with the upholstered chairs that comprise our laundry storage system.
Sensory style
While my two inches of aromatic, boldly flavored Italian Roast is brewing (can’t you just smell it?), I may move on to the quiet of the living room. It is a calming space, filled with books and (admittedly) provocative, brightly colored art. There are splashes of deep red (which I love), and the odd evocative object: a dish of satiny pebbles gathered years ago on a Mediterranean beach, antique chairs in miniature from when I was a girl, and a 19th century candelabra on the mantel.
Wake up and smell the… roses?
Then it’s back to the kitchen, to pour those precious swallows of beloved elixir – my allotted amount. (Coffee gods of the universe, is this fair??). But this morning, there was an additional pleasure awaiting. Six dollars for sensory therapy: two sprigs of lilies and baby’s breath, purchased earlier in the week in tight buds, now open in all their glory.
To me, the scent of lilies is incredible. I used to buy flowers often, but they’re an indulgence these days. Perhaps that makes me appreciate them more – a single stem of sweetheart roses in a small vase, daisies in a pitcher to lighten the winter doldrums, or my favorite – the spicy and brightly colored lilies – even if they are sitting next to boxes of Cheerios, Rotini, and last night’s leftovers my son neglected to put away.
Fragrance and memory
To me, flowers are like French perfume. Essential to my well-being. A few drops of Chanel go a long way; warm and evocative on a pulse point, able to transport me to other times and moments that are… comment dirais-je – sublime.
I recall the perfumes I’ve gone through at various stages in life. Halston in college, a divine Estée Lauder scent for years. Then, thanks to a Frenchman (you knew that was coming), a Chanel fragrance that is perfection with the particular chemistry of my skin. As for the flowers, I contend that I am trading off coffee savings for floral therapy. While a different experience from freshly brewed java, the jolt of heady fragrance is heavenly. Heavenly.
- Is there a scent or color that transports you?
- An object that you love to touch?
- Some source of sensory therapy, in your environment?
And so I start my day. A bit on the early side, ignoring the stacks, the laundry, and anything else unpleasant. I’ll let my imagination wander among the aromas and objects, and breathe in what is here: a classic scent lingering on my wrist, and the giddy blooming of lilies in my kitchen.
I am sitting in my living room, looking around and seeing the piles of laundry that need to be folded. I wish my kitchen table currently held more than my coffee. I love lilies. I also love chocolate roses – slightly brownish-red and so fragrant.
Smells can trigger so many memories, as can sights and sounds. You have inspired me to go get some flowers for the kitchen table but probably not for a week or so as I am traveling quite a bit next week and want to enjoy them.
I remembered your post on the senses, as I was writing this. Chocolate roses! Don’t think they have those at my local grocery store. 🙂 They sound scrumptious. (Glad I’m not the only one with the perpetual piles of laundry. I think it’s a boy thing.)
Coffee coffee coffee – my drug of choice. It is dangerous for me to have a first date in a coffee house where the aroma of fresh brewed dark roast entices me to always say yes to a woman.
Too funny! (It is now torture for me as well, because I want more coffee!!) You are easily enticed, my friend. Ah, if only more men were so easily pleased…
I am totally nuts for citrus. Lemon zest, orange peels – yummy! It is just so fresh and invigorating. And, oddly, the lemon zest always calms my stomach when I am a bit nauseous.
I love baby litter. Just blocks, diaper stuff, clothes, binkies, blankies, booties, bottles, babies everywhere. That’s my sensory therapy. My children keep me young and the piles of children STUFF is, while painful, one of the many reminders of why I do what I do.
One thing I can’t keep my hands off of is tushies. Baby tushies, husband tushies. I’m like a pro football player, I pat so much tushy.
The perfumes I’ve used in various times of my life can definitely bring back memories, BLW! Tabu in my teens. Obsession and Youth Dew in my 20s. Beautiful by Estee Lauder till I met my husband and then, because he didn’t like scents, I avoided them till this year when I reclaimed my right to scents with Escada. I’m the asthmatic; if it doesn’t bother me it shouldn’t bother him…
Ah Linda, amazing how our perfumes bring back entire chapters of life! (Glad you’re enjoying a few drops or mists of fragrance again. I feel undressed without a touch on each wrist and on my neck.)
The lily is my favorite flower! I carried Stargazer Lilies in my wedding; my personal favorite is the audacious Tiger Lily. A saucier flower doesn’t exist in my mind.
Perfumes of the past–ah, the Love’s Baby Soft of junior high. Bittersweet.
The smell of bread baking always brings me back to snowy North Dakota winters…
Peonies. Both the sight and the smell. When I was younger, I preferred the more common flowers: roses, tulips, daffodils – but now there is no flower more appealing to me than the fleeting early summer peony. Perhaps it is its relatively short lifespan that makes me cherish it even more?
I steal the cherished blankets and doggies of my little boys when I get the chance and snuggle them against my face, breathing in my boys and the peace that these objects bring to them.
I linger a little longer in my big boy’s bed after we’ve read a chapter together and finger the quilt my grandmother made for him when he was born.
There are smells and flavors that I swoon over, sure–a bottle of Tocade perfume my husband bought me long before we had kids or the flavor of a kalamata olive mixed with soft feta cheese–but the greatest source of sensory stimulation comes from the objects my kids cherish most, those that they turn to with tears, love and longing.
Of course, there is more wrapped up in these blankies than being just blankies. It is the knowledge of that my sweet children are, indeed, both sweet and so very mine. And it is the knowledge that I am this mother to them–a gift that shall never be taken away and one that I hold tight to my heart.
That said, if I could wake up with my nose inside a coffee grinder, I would. What smells better than that? Not sensual, you say? Well I beg to differ. The aroma of coffee gives “perky” an entirely new meaning.
Coffee and baby blankets. Lovely.
You had me at “smell the coffee.” That is, until I had to get up and pour myself some!! I’m greedy. The aroma alone is not enough.
Cofffffffffffffeeeeeeeeee. Yum. The scent, the flavor, and the warmth flowing down your throat, warming you to your toes. Absolute heaven, but to me, the best sensory treats are beautiful colors and the feel of anything soft. I can stroke the rich, soft fur of a cat; or a velvety piece of fabric, for hours; losing myself in the relaxing, sensual feel of the softness against my skin. On the bad days, it is sometimes the only thing that relaxes me enough to allow me to sleep.