I am a writer – and a deep experiencer of life. Today I published this in my ezine and when I thought about it more I thought… hmmm…. this really fits in the “Live Passionately” category:

They look sort of like what I imagine an
underwater lavender bush might look like. Their
arms are wavy, as if pushed about by an underwater
current. Their color is a bold, vivid purple, perhaps
like something I saw in the art of my beloved
movie, “Finding Nemo”.

I couldn’t help myself when I reached over to one
of these mystery plants and ran my hand along its
blossoms to gather up the scent, like I do with my
friends, the lavender bushes I know and love.

I put my hand up to my nose and breathed in, waiting
for ecstasy to enfold me.

I wish I had a camera on my face to see what
it registered.

“Mold. This smells like… the insides of an old person’s
home… filled with objects they have had for decades… it is
like the Hyde’s-house-smell.”

The home of my childhood next-door-neighbors was a
smell I loved and treasured, but certainly not wonderfully
earthy and bliss-launching as lavender or rosemary.

It is certainly not what I expected at all.

That circles us right around to the entire point of
today’s writing.

All it takes is one, deep breath in – and I am launched
into the stratosphere.

It is the best creative unblocker I can ever imagine or
recommend. I am thinking about our most primitive,
visceral creative tool, the one which cracks open dense
sheets of frozen ice – the sense of smell.

And it is so simple – we all have it available, right at
our beck-and-call.

I just walked down the hallway of my house. There is
something making a strange odor coming from what
we call “the garden room.” A nasty smell, indeed.
When I am done here, I will investigate further. I walked
back into my living room, where I am writing, and I smell
remnants of last night’s fire in the fireplace.

Last night Craig swept me away for a couple hours of
respite from my house. I commented, lightly, “We had a
fire in the fireplace, it was really awesome.” And he said,
“That’s it. I smell it on you,” like he had been quietly in his
driver’s seat, wondering how to identify that dancing
smell-shadow that had arrived, unannounced when I
joined him in the car.

He was driving the car and we had been together for
all of about three minutes at that point, but that one
moment of witness made me stop and appreciate him
much more than I had before, even with our combined
admiration for bassist Leland Sklar.

So what can I do to take this sensory experience into
my writing?

To start, here are several topics I could choose from
that were inspired by the sense of smell from
my experiences:

1. Inspiration from Color (the plant – and art in Finding
Nemo- which might seem like it is from Visual, but it is
really from getting what I didn’t expect from the sense
of smell and recognizing beauty anyway.)

2. Memories from The Hyde’s House… so many from that
alone. Being treasured by older people who aren’t your
grandparents, creating memories for the beloved older
people in your life, opening your home to children,
the bridge between little ones and the elderly, deep
memories, deep joyful memories, creating tradition with
your “un-family family.”

3. Creating a Sensual Garden

4. When the Unexpected is what is just right

5. Wooing with the Senses

Helen Keller said, “Smell is a potent wizard that transports
us across thousands of miles and all the years we have lived.”

Right at the tips of our noses we have the magic of the deep
breath – the connection to the marvel of scent.

Your assignment is simple. Notice the scents which surround
you – and breathe in, deeply.

Notice what images arise as a result – and if you are feeling
especially creative – write them down. You might write a
sentence, a haiku, a paragraph, a vignette or “snapshot” moment
in time. It is up to you.