Wednesday, June 30, 2004


These mornings on my way to and from the beans and lettuces I always stop to smell the gardenias (that creamy delicious fragrance lights a deep hunger we carry in our history, but personally know nothing of), an experience that never diminishes in its power, sets me thinking about how deeply and anciently the flowers know an aboriginal facet of us that we know so little of: our sense of smell.

The olfactory senses are situated in the limbic system, the oldest and most primitive part of the brain, because since we first stepped into the air we have used our sense of smell to survive; we still, if only figuratively, "sniff the wind"...

Our sense of smell is more than just the channel for aromatherapy, it's a root source of vital information on the state of ourselves, of others and of the world around us. The recognition of pheromones is just a small part of it. But so much of our aboriginal awareness has been silenced or atrophied by what we've surrounded ourselves with from mind to foot, I fear that in this case we may be breaking a primal connection, more than just a strong ally in our life on the Blue Jewel; we may be losing a source of life-health itself, the equivalent of going collectively blind.

Evolutionarily, when you can't sniff the wind for real, you're done for.


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