Home

She knows when he is nearby.

She doesn’t have to hear him or see him.

There is that fresh fragrance with a hint of deep, strong wooden undertones. It is crisp and clean. The smell of sweet pine on a Spring day. And underneath that reoccurring yet not permanent essence is another homely aroma. So faint that she wonders if it is only she that can breathe it in. She stops and breathes it in deep. She can feel its warmth. It’s all her favourite things at once. All her happy thing’s exactly at the moment she needs them. It is Mickey Waffles on a warm day in Florida, or sweet toasted marshmallows on an autumn night.

Close your eyes. Take a deep breath and imagine you are somewhere you feel safe, a place you can truly relax and be totally present and know here you are completely free to be you. No mask is needed. No apologies are desired. Everything about you, every delicate part of you, all the vulnerable parts of you, even the dark ugly pieces you are forever trying to hide. All of you is accepted here.

Her heart rate slows. Her breathing is deeper and longer. Her shoulders soften, composing themselves relaxed and loose, released of any tension. The rapid and intense thoughts in her head quieten. It can be so loud in there sometimes that she can’t see where she is meant to be. She closes her eyes and feels as though she is standing in New York City; Times Square at rush hour; lost. She has never visited New York before but she is not sure if she would like it. 

But then there is that tender essence embracing her. It is much quieter in her head now. There is a hypnotising effect, not one that is to be feared but one she always steps into. One that helps her to remember who she is. It grounds her, earths her, helps her regulate.

In times of utter disarray and grief, that smell helps her breathe.