I’m surprised to learn, after sniffing up a storm today, closing my eyes, and hoping the olfactory part of my mind would wander down some ancient pathways, that I have no real smell memory, not even one that reminds me of ‘home’. I have three smells that take me back to earlier years. Someone taking the first puff on a cigarette. There was nothing like that smell to me and it was non-reproducible. I can picture a friend (different friends throughout my smoking career) lighting up, taking a deep inhale, and blowing out the smoke. All or much of it landing on my nose. Today I try to move away from cigarettes. Don’t really want the memory pull.
This is lovely... and poignant. As you say, it can be sad to remember the times when everything was still ahead, to be lived. At least I feel sad then. maybe we can approach that as with smelling the wonderful aroma of bread without falling into the sea of problems or grief!
Love this reverie!! Songs do it for me too; I remember standing on a damp hillside in Andorra after camping in the rain, the sun bursting through the clouds, and hearing Cat Stevens on our little portable radio singing "Morning Has Broken". If I could go back to that moment and relive everything that happened after that, Oh yes I would.
This is lovely... and poignant. As you say, it can be sad to remember the times when everything was still ahead, to be lived. At least I feel sad then. maybe we can approach that as with smelling the wonderful aroma of bread without falling into the sea of problems or grief!
Love this reverie!! Songs do it for me too; I remember standing on a damp hillside in Andorra after camping in the rain, the sun bursting through the clouds, and hearing Cat Stevens on our little portable radio singing "Morning Has Broken". If I could go back to that moment and relive everything that happened after that, Oh yes I would.