Scent-iments

I close my eyes and think through my nose: what can I breathe in so I may feel better after living the longest day of my life?

Who am I fooling when I say that I shall stop to smell the flowers? Flowers to me are more pleasing to the eyes than taking them into my nostrils. But if my nose alone could sense comfort out of the things that surround me, I shall take a pause, a deep breath, and be comforted by three scents: the scent of a newborn baby, the scent of fresh raindrops, and the scent of early morning coffee.

The scent of a newborn baby…ah! Addictive like drug-the kind that takes you to the clouds and liberates you from the thoughts that darken your skies. Always sweet like powder, always fragrant like clean laundry. I am soothed by the reminiscence of the going through labor pains, enduring child birth and sustaining motherhood. Taking in the scent of a newborn baby is like taking in new life as well; it revives me. That to me is comforting.

The scent of fresh raindrops, and even the ones that have dried on the pavement, petrichor they call it, gives me a stir and takes me back to summers years back when rain was unexpected but once it had fallen, it had given me memories to cherish like dancing in the rain with a summer fling, getting soaked with chums, and writing poems with head resting on the window with the wet world in sight. Taking in petrichor gives me more than just memories of summer-it gives me hope for a fresh start, an anticipation for a rainbow, a desire for solitude. That to me is comforting.

The scent of early morning coffee, the one thing I always look forward to. Starting a day with a cup of latte is giving myself an opportunity to  breathe in lifeblood. The scent of coffee prepares me for the day ahead. As I breathe it in, I am reminded of how special I am as a person and how grateful I am to have sustained the life I am living. The scent of coffee reminds me how blessed I am to have woken up to a new day, and pushes me to keep breathing no matter what. That to me is comforting.

 

And whenever I think through my nose, I realize, it is only then that I understand what my life is all about.

 

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/nosey-delights/

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?

 

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Lost in One Republic’s Highway

Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life. ~Berthold Auerbach

Clad in my worn-out jeans, my husband’s over-sized white Hanes and faded sneakers, I jump behind a stranger’s pick-up truck with a fully-charged smart phone, put on a pair of dark glasses, snuggle into tie-dyed native blankie and hit the repeat button to play One Republic’s “Feel Again.” I am ready for a road trip to the countryside where a steaming native black coffee waits for me at the porch of a solitary cabin owned by another stranger. By then, I shall be playing another One Republic song, “Good Life” as I sip carelessly my brew and initiate random thoughts to brew at the same time. When I am done with my coffee, I shall then be listening to “Counting Stars” when I will have realized I have been wandering through my empty mind and heart for a long time for me to realize it is almost night time. I am now sitting at the hammock-imagining, wishing, thinking…Will this day ever end? Will this day ever come?

(This is how my current mood looks like in a canvas.)

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/frame-of-mind/

image from http://www.shuttlecock.com

Test Mic

I am a professional singer behind shower curtains.It is only in the shower that my voice sounds like I really own it. Other than the shower…oh well, no sound engineers will be able to do something about my recorded voice that echoes like a show gay doing an Alanis Morissette song at midnight.

I just can’t stand the sound of my recorded voice. Neither will you.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/cant-stand-me/

Spiritual Quest

Come oh Holy Spirit and fill the hearts of the faithful.

I should have gotten it the first time, but it took me ten years to really embrace the purpose of starting the academic year by invoking the holy spirit.

More than the aspiration for a fruitful academic year, for the prayer for blessings and guidance as the quest goes on for academic excellence, for the desire for successful steps towards earnest goals for self and others in the academe, I finally figured out what it is I really yearn for in taking in the gifts of the holy spirit after I had a close encounter with myself during two eucharistic celebrations I attended. When it finally hit me, the realization was warm and strong that truly I have been having a weak spirit all along.

Maybe it was not until I opened my wounded and weary heart when I finally realized why the holy spirit has to be upon me, with me, in me. I have been to busy with iron works on the twists and curves of my existence that I went on pretending to be grateful and blessed but the reality is, my heart has not been full. The holy spirit came in like stray tears falling from my eyes unnoticed by everyone else except by my restless heart. When the holy spirit hit like that, I seemed to be searching for something, scanning for a hint, envisioning a clue.

The surge of the close encounter with the holy spirit was like a sudden strange feeling of weariness translating to a racing anticipation for something better felt.

The truth is, I really do not know what I am talking about. But God knows how I feel right now is beyond ordinary. I am not saying that I am a renewed Christian now, or a more faithful kind. Because truthfully again, I am not up to change whatever it is that I or other people expect me to change. But something stirs. And it is good. It has to be something good.

Whatever it is, I think a new quest has just started.