smell

Being present in things as they are...

in doing so, it can be useful to assume the attitude of a naturalist.

A naturalist simply observes nature without interfering or imposing his or her views. The naturalist's perspective is one of respect for what is observed. The word re-spect
(aka R-E-S-P-E-C-T) is a nice synonym for mindfulness practice because it literally means to look again.  

I'm finding this [from meditation teacher Gil Fronsdal - thanks S for recommending him] helpful as a way to deal with the enormous stress of the last few weeks and simply take in what's around me. In the heart of summer I find the easiest way to do that is through the sense of smell since it is so heightened in the heat and humidity,  from gardens to garbage. In fact the scents I most associate with this season are roses and rotting trash with a healthy spray of sunscreen (in pre-cancer aware days, sun tanning lotion) You could think of those first two as polar opposites in terms of how we interpret them: roses have the most exquisite scents, ranging from subtle to profuse depending on the species, and garbage while at the other end of what we generally consider pleasing. Yet given its associations with my favorite summer in the city experiences: at the end of any urban outdoor event - from concert or fireworks to barbecues, jazz festival to Shakespeare in the Park,that smell from overflowing trash cans and the detritus gathered along well traveled paths from people who have been enjoying themselves in crowded urban spaces, creating a happy hour for ants and their cousins and a putrid odor for the humans to endure.

...when we take [our emotions] personally we let ourselves be defined by them: the presence of anger means I am an angry person.  A generous act taken personally is proof that I am a generous person....from a naturalist perspective, one does not see "my anger" or "my generosity". Rather, they are simply observed as "the anger" or "the impulse of generosity"

Hard to believe it was just a little more than two weeks ago (it feels more like two months) I was on a 2 day yoga retreat on a sustainable farm, breathing, eating, moving and sharing with others who understand the enormous burden of being a caregiver, with the smells of the fresh earth and a swimming hole and outdoor shower and fresh cooked vegetables, and the opportunity to feel replenished and fortified to deal with daily stress... followed immediately by those reserves being tested as I experience the disappointment and the sadness of V having to come home after only two days of sleep-away camp because of some new anxiety-driven behaviors we can not understand and therefore struggle to address.  I observe how the distress of hustling for help for him aggravates the anxiety of starting a new job, and the desire to feel the hopefulness of new beginnings is clouded by the despondency towards my own seemingly endlessly challenging circumstances

For a naturalist there is no good or bad, the world just unfolds. 

Each person's nose has about 400 different types of olfactory receptors, and there are 6 million in total, which suggests that each person smells the world slightly differently.

In the span of an hour :  an overheated brake on the train, the newly showered and still waking up smells of soap, hair products, coffee, followed by more coffee and donuts in the station, outside to rotting garbage, marijuana, bacon, a whiff of someone who hasn't bathed in weeks, cheap or expensive perfume, I can't really tell which - it just smells like chemical masking sweat,dog poop (eau de canine), an elevator full of deodorant and cleaning chemicals and yet more coffee.

I like some more than others but as I travel through my morning they all just unfold, and while there's an underlying sense of good or bad,  desired and disliked, I don't personalize any of it and I know that whether they are aware of it or not, everyone else is experiencing their own distinct interpretations of the same air we breathe and smell.  The bereft and the confident, the struggling or successful, we all react to a shared world of scents. We do not wonder "Why is this overflowing trash can happening to me?" or "I'm so wonderful to be smelling chocolate croissants."  There's nothing personal about any of it.

Be both the naturalist and the nature. 

Because of our wonderful power of observation and reflection, human beings can be both the observed and the observer. 

In the game of which sense would you be most willing to lose, smell always wins [I read in the Smithsonian] But in evolutionary terms smell plays an important role: we smell things we need to avoid or that trigger possible danger: spoiled food, gas leaks or fire.  Smell is also deeply emotional, linked to memory and past interactions. The scent of a certain cologne or pastry can evoke a loved one or place in time.
For me, it is smells that connect me to memory, the people and places I cherish: my grandmother's skin, my aunt's kitchen, the cabin in the mountains, the Earl grey tea a friend used to drink, cheese steak. I have not eaten red meat in over 40 years, but I'm a Philly girl, I still love the strong smell of frying onions and meat on a large frying pan followed by the more subtle melted cheese on top. This is my childhood, as much a part of my nature as fresh mowed grass or autumn leaves.

You are here. You are a naturalist. I have to remind myself over and over in the course of days that stretch into weeks of emails and phone calls to interview and schedule for help, setbacks and cancellations, the mysteries of neurobiology and human behavior I cannot solve, getting up at 5:30 am each morning with anxiety gripping my gut, going through the day watching reactions and projections: The fear. The longing for something to be easy.  The dread: will life every be able to be about what I love to do instead of what I have to do? The clinging to the belief that it isn't fair.  But life isn't fair.  Is there a way to feel neither avoidance or obsession with that fact? Breathe. the smell of coffee and an egg frying and gluten free toast, which smells just like the regular kind even if it tastes a little grittier. 

The naturalist sees the longing to have more time to sit here writing, but she sees the must do's that cram in almost every waking hour, except the end of the day when she collapses in exhaustion, grateful that there really is such a things as good TV.  The naturalist feels the determination to change things, and then she smiles and smells coffee, sunscreen, toothpaste and the fresh sultry air as she leaves to take the dog for a walk.

dogs days and weeks

the dog days of summer

plural noun. the sultry part of the summer, supposed to occur during the period that Sirius, the Dog Star, rises at the same time as the sun: now often reckoned from July 3 to August 11. a period marked by lethargy, inactivity, or indolence.

away

1. The Human Tragicomedy

My across the street neighbors asks me to give her key (we keep a spare) to someone who needs to get into the house while they are away on vacation for the next 3 weeks.

My next door neighbors ask me to take in the newspaper for the week while they are away on vacation.

My neighbor two doors down asks if I can take in her mail for 2 weeks while she is away on vacation.

My neighbor 3 houses up asks if I can feed her daughter's goldfish while they are away for the week.

My new neighbors who just moved in ask if I will take in their packages until they come back from vacation later this week. 

There seems to be a pattern here...

I could easily start a business: "Homebody Helper. Responsible neighbor who spends most of her time at home will make it seem like you do too."  But I prefer being neighborly to trying to monetize my helpfulness.  I love my neighbors, and I like being of service. In a way I feel flattered, or at least connected in a healthy way. 

Still, these tasks confirm the feeling I have as I walk through my neighborhood, from my more modest end up through the bigger houses at the top of the street, that it feels a bit like a ghost town lately. And it could explain why I'm finding my energy wane more quickly than usual.  It's not me, it's Sirius the dog star: something cosmic and chemical and geologic. It's a way that we are a part of some greater ebb and flow in the universe, which makes it easier to let go of judgment or aversion.

Please excuse me from the agreement I made with myself to chronicle my life on a weekly basis due to indolence.  I walk and swim and write in my head but the lethargy that has set in makes this word to page part - the synthesizing and editing and sorting out that is the most demanding part of the creative process - hard to sustain.

There's also been so much else going on that I must attend to even in 90 degree heat, responsibilities that drain whatever reserves of energy I have. The magic elixir of coffee and necessity propels me forward each day. There are visits to doctors for V's increased impulsivity and anxiety as well as a case of pink eye. Getting ready for one more week of camp later this month, updating the health and medication forms.  And the Herculean task of trying to find after-school help as we head back to work next month. All part of the ongoing list of How it's Really Different that I wish others understood: from the long applications and waiting list and numerous phone calls regarding funding and administration of medication and other details for 6 days of camp for V - far more effort than an entire summer used to be to plan for his brother; ditto finding afternoon help:  emails to every person and organization I know, and postings on numerous sites where others seek childcare: people seeking help with 3 kids under the age of 5 starting at 6 in the morning - where they are also expected to clean the house, drive the kids to activities all day and make dinner - have lists of people eager to do the job, while I still have no responses for someone to spend 3 hours a day with a teen with severe autism  (the smart, fun, and endearing descriptor doesn't seem to help.)  Or is it that I seek an experienced, energetic, engaging, reliable and attentive person?  I will clean the house for you. I'll fix you dinner if you want.  We'll pay you well and we'll be so grateful and easy-going. And still nada. In addition to anxiety in the moment it brings up enormous fear for the future: if it's that hard to find good help for an autistic teen a few hours a day, how much harder still when he is an adult, because as much progress as I hope he will continue to make, V will always need help and likely round the clock supervision.

yes (and coffee)

This is not how I want to spend these dog days. I'm bone tired.  I want one of those creative staycations or productive, privileged post-retirements to devote to artistic endeavors that I read about in the NY Times. Or at least the luxury of the white privileged mom (and her peers) in the article that went viral complaining that she was punished for leaving her 4 year old alone in a locked car while she ran an errand, with just a cursory mention that any black or brown mom would have her kid taken away from her for the same infraction; and the women of any color with kids like mine who couldn't leave their child - even one who is 3 or 4 times as old as that 4 year old - alone for 15 seconds, let alone 15 minutes! (note to self: cancel my newspaper subscription.)

It's not that I have that aspirational longing for superficial or consumerist things I keep reading about, as if all anyone wants in this post-Trump world is to revel in proof of their material success. I've never been interested - and I realistically know it's not possible at this point - to ever live a life that is in any way affluent. I just want to be safe and comfortable, and for others to enjoy that same basic right. Sure, I'd love to travel and get weekly massages, but my main aspirations now are for peace of mind and freedom from having to respond to the needs of others. I just want time. To feel relaxed. To do as others during these dog days of summer: to have a whole week or two to lie on a hammock or sit beside a body of water, where I will eventually swim, and then get out and continue in the glorious task of doing nothing.  Or only what I want to do. 

In the meantime, I am happy to take in your mail.

2. Another viewpoint, from the source. (Because we believe in civil discourse in this house.)

You're bone-tired?  Now that sounds very appealing. I have to settle for dry kibble and naps. (haha, that's a canine joke)  But seriously, when did dog days get such a bad rap?  Did you know that Sirius the dog star, or Canis Major as my species and anyone else conversant in Latin calls it, is the brightest star visible in the night's sky from any part of Earth? It's almost twice as bright as Canopus, the next brightest star. That's pretty awesome stuff!  

And on a more grounded level, what could be better than dog days?

sniff

Walk. Sniff. Bark. Nap.You could embroider that on a pillow. (You can leave out the eat/drink/pee/poop part that keeps us going, that makes us living beings just like you.) 
Every day is a good day. I am grateful and mindful without all the effort you put into it.

And if I may remind you, as we cross the street and head south as we often do through a working-class new immigrant neighborhood, most people are still here, working to cover their rent or mortgage or car payments. People are happy just having a barbecue and blasting their music. There are no early retirements and second homes and third cars and smug embrace of wellness. There are no distant relatives of Gwyneth Paltrow replenishing themselves in any of the small houses we pass every day, many with 2 or 3 families crammed into one address. Have some perspective.  We have a whole house and a yard to ourselves, and while you may not be able to afford renovations, you will never have to worry about eviction.

You will never be abandoned, like I was, because someone couldn't afford to keep you or hold onto the farm or whatever reason I was found wandering around rural Virginia with no people. This house, this life - yes, I know I have far less responsibility than you - I am a dog, and not a working one - but you have it far better than most people. Yes, cancel your subscription to the paper (although those blue sleeves it comes in are the perfect bags for cleaning up after me). Or just throw out the Style and Travel and Real Estate sections and focus on the news - it's too important to ignore right now. Having an ignorant, unhinged president is all the more reason to be well-informed, to be able to take action to make positive change. Focus on what's important and let go of the rest.

Your dog days might be hot and muggy but before you know it the days will be shorter and then it will start getting cold and you'll wish you were back here, where you can just throw on those slightly more fitted versions of mumus you actually wear out in public. Humans. sigh.

Breathe. smell, appreciate.There's a whole big sky up there and trees down here.  If nothing else, learn how to nap. I swear, it's a game changer.

nap