How to regulate with scent
An essential oil meditation for your darkest days
Things were hard this winter, I couldn’t breathe, literally from illness, and metaphorically from all the other shit (I won’t bore you with the details, let’s keep it hopeful here).
When leaving the apartment felt impossible, I was grateful to my past self for writing a guide on what to seek out and smell in January. Reading that essay felt like finding soup in the back of the freezer, a gift from a better version of myself who stood by an open window and chopped vegetables, when the sun was high and the tomatoes were better.
A list of things to smell (blood oranges, chai tea, camomile oil) gave me a purposeful shopping trip and a reason to leave the house when a concept as simple as 'body leaving the apartment' felt impossible.
It’s wise to identify that feelings of abundance don't last forever and to save something for when things are bleak. As I read that essay, I didn't quite recognise her, but took comfort in the fact she'd left me breadcrumbs to follow back to myself, and tracked them slowly with heavy limbs and heart.
If you’re there right now, here’s what you do:
Go out now, even if the cruel air pricks nasty little tears in your eyes, you need to put heavy steps between yourself and your darkest thoughts. Keep walking. Go to the shop that feels too far away. Buy some things to smell: herbs, a cardamom bun, and a bunch of bright mimosa. And that’s all for today. Lay your parcels on the kitchen table, and if tomorrow is better, you’ll have something to smell.
Make your bedside an altar, sponsored by the power of plants.
Some hit the running shoes, or sun salutations to help them breathe, I have a blend of essential oils. To smell is to breathe and to breathe mindfully is to meditate. I can’t ‘think of nothing’, but I can train my thoughts on a scent.
My current blend includes geranium, as it’s a proven tonic for seasonal affective disorder, bergamot for its promise of summer, and rosemary because I find it comforting in its ubiquity, unshowy and consistent like buttered toast.
A friend uses a rose in her scent meditation. Rose makes perfect sense for its synergy with female power and self-love, I find it too ‘sweety’, I need medicinal at times like this. I had a phase on frankincense, for its cleansing properties, I now burn it for the same reasons. I've used palo santo, sandalwood, and benzoin, changing it up helps me track time. If you are new to this game, and not sure where to start, go for camomile, it’s like getting out the big guns. it's the OG comfort oil.
Don’t buy online, go to the store and let your nose guide you. Our bodies tell us what we need, and expect that to change over time. Clary sage is helpful if you’re at the beginning, or end of your hormonal journey. I seem to be surrounded by women teetering on the edge of teen-girldom or perimenopause (often under the same roof), for those households, I would suggest: getting a big bottle.
How to make your oil:
Once you’ve picked your blend (go for a single note if that feels daunting) dilute your chosen note/s in a carrier oil, I like sweet almond or jojoba, as they don’t have a fragrance, so there’s nothing to contend with.
Use around 15% essential oils, and dilute the rest with the carrier. I use Boston round dropper bottles as they are easy to portion out into your hands.
Turn the oil through your fingers purposefully, then put some on the ends of your hair, or your neck. Clean feet respond well to massage oils, and there’s something wildly rebellious about giving your toes attention in March, before the summer pedi, when they have lived all winter, forgotten in boots.
Breathe in and out, with scented hands cupped over your mouth and nose.
Once you hit on a blend that works for you, add it to a steaming bath, a kettle full of water in a pan, or a bathroom sink. Carry it in your bag and whip it out in passive-aggressive meetings, on germy public transport, or whenever you need it.
I try and take breaths like a favourite yoga teacher once taught me to: inhale as much as you can, ( keep that in your stomach, not your chest) and then when you reach the end, try and breathe just a tiny bit more. Release as slowly as possible. And start again. Repeat until you feel better. Taking a breath is like life, there's always a tiny bit more available if we just reach for it.
Try and think of nothing but the scent. Follow the geranium's milky rose notes or the balsamic freshness of the rosemary. In and out. Notice the pepper in the bergamot, or find suggestions of cream and fruit you never noticed before. Spot camphor or sugar, lemons and grass.
Slowly you'll start to associate the scent with giving yourself a moment of kindness, and the act of screwing off the lid and passing the potion between your fingers will kick-start the calm-down process.
If you are in the dark place reading this (I’m sorry, it may be better tomorrow or the next day) set your altar, and try and focus on the scent.
If you’re in a place of abundance, or even just feeling OK, freeze the soup, write the essay or make the oil, then stow it away for when you go below the line, because whatever your breadcrumbs look like, only you can lead yourself home.
Thank you for these wise words, an inspirational and motivational read.
Ok I loooove this <3