senses. the day.

smell
My husband's minty breath as he kisses me good-bye and good morning. Flowery, plumeria incense as I write my morning pages, and I am reminded of Maui. Lavender soap, as the suds form in the shower, I smell my skin and think of summer, sun. The woodsy-ness of green tea as I bring the mug to my lips as I work. The damp, odor-full smell of wet dog as she nudges with her head, hoping I will stop working to pet her. Later, the rich, pungency of chocolate as my husband and I share dessert on the couch.

hear
My fingers tap across the keyboard as I work. The weepies harmonize from the tiny speakers attached to my computer. Later, joni mitchell teaches me with her wise words and I attempt to harmonize along. The rattle of newspaper as I turn the pages, searching for words that speak. Scissors open and close, cutting through the paper. The click click pause, click click click pause of the antique typewriter as I write words that have been walking across my brain all day. Throughout it all, the rain falls and falls on the roof. Tink, tink, splat, tink, tink.

see
The glow from the computer screen brightens the room, and in the morning, I spend time with the words of others. For awhile, work related words; I write invitations to change meaning slightly, add a comma here, add definitions, delete redundancy. A break. Then the words of wise, creative, soulful, honest women. I turn the pages of this book and this book and revel in the colors as I learn. I put paint to paper and watch images begin to bleed in the water on the page. Orange becomes red becomes orange becomes yellow. I am inspired by the paintings of this woman.

taste
My new favorite breakfast treat, warm toast with butter and cinnamon sugar. I know I can only eat it until I go back to the store for a smarter start to my day, so I let the sinful taste dance in my mouth, slowly, each bite, slowly. Two mugs of Trader Joe's green tea, each cooling slightly as I work.

touch
The plush, softness of my favorite gray sweatshirt. The rain falls on my head as Millie and I run outside to the backyard for a quick break. She brushes against my leg, soft and wet, in her rush to get back inside. I shuffle my new cards, a gift from a new friend and am grateful for the wisdom I hold in my hands. I feel the smooth surface of each card and think about reaching inside the pictures and touching the knowledge there.

and know
When I pause to look at the day, I find that my heart feels happy. I am walking in my life. I am learning as I walk. I am growing as I learn. I am laughing as I grow. I am singing as I laugh. I am dancing as I sing. I am me as I dance, as I live.

senses. barnes and noble.

{see}
I open the door and pause. Aisles and aisles of shelves filled with voices, pictures, color, truth, sadness, lies, happiness, far off places, laughter. And the unusual, a group of four young people sit at a table in the cafe. A red Michael's shopping cart is next to them filled with an umbrella, purchases, coats. I wonder what people thought as they rolled it through the door. Did someone hold the door for them with a look of wonder on her face? I walk into the cafe. Choices. Pastry, cookie, sandwich. Tea, coffee, hot, cold. Choose. I turn and see the rain outside, as I pull my mittens from my hands. Hot. Chai tea.

{taste}
The spices of the chai tea dance on my tongue, inviting me to take a trip with them. So I begin my journey in the travel section.

{smell}
For the first time I choose a random book from a shelf, open it up, and smell it...that paper smell. Close your eyes and take a breath. You know it too.
The book: Italy. The Green Guide.
The sentence: Antico Caffe del Maro "Cafe des artistes" In the 1950's the artists frequented this establishment would often pay for their drinks with paintings which now decorate the walls of this cheerful cocktail bar.
I place the book back on the shelf and turn.

{touch}
The next aisle: color, paper, beads, cloth, leather, embroidery, dried leaves. I open one. Smooth blank pages. Put that one down and pick up another. Open. Pages are rough to the touch. Leaves and flowers adorn the pages. Journals. Pick one.

{hear}
Voices. Whispers. Laughter. A sigh. What can I get for you today? Tall caffe mocha. Are you finding everything? Right this way. My own voice humming along with "I'll stop the world and melt with you..."

{and know}
when you're down and out...and weary and feeling small...and tears are in your eyes...let books become the bridge over your troubles.

senses. christmas.

See.
The tree sparkles with lights as the sun begins to come up. Everyone wears their Christmas Eve pajamas (a tradition I started last year - if you are at our house Christmas Eve, you get new pjs). Presents wrapped in green, red, blue. Bows and gift tags inviting us all to take a peek. The annoyed look on my brother's face as he walks into the living room "what time is it?" and the laughter on his face as he opens his Mr. T in your pocket. Seeing my mother act out lightning while we play cranium (it doesn't get any better than that). Tired content faces ready for bed.

Hear.
Christmas music, Millie's sighs, my brother's sarcasm, my mother's laughter, the table being set, the timer dings, packages are opened!, thank you's, exclaims of surprise, the voices of my in-laws on the phone as they share their happiness about their gifts and their day, my brother's voice "I'm going to go take a nap," Jon saying "I think I am going to open up this chocolate," my mother saying "what else can I do here," my new polaroid camera talks as it hands me my first picture, laughter as we act out tofu and hum these boots are made for walking, the good nights before bed.

Taste.
Shortbread cookies, chocolate, earl grey tea, cinnamon rolls, sausage and cheddar strata, artichoke dip, bread, gouda and Beecher's flagship cheese, smoked salmon rich with flavor, cream cheese, salted almonds.

Feel.
The smooth surface of wrapping paper. Slipping my fingers through the little holes in my new warm mittens that I can wear when I am out in the cold and want to take pictures. Wrapping the soft cashmere scarf around my neck. Trying on a new vest and feeling the warm quilted fabric. Millie's soft fur as she wiggles with excitement as I put her new collar on her.

Smell.
A cinnamon candle, evergreen and eucalyptus, new candles, mango tea, the wool of my new scarf (grateful for the gift of a neti pot from my husband's awesome grandmother, Gram, so I can hopefully add more smells over the next few days).

And know.
Be thankful for the laughter. Hold it in your heart. Remind yourself that you heard it, felt it, lived it. When you feel the stress whisper in your ear and mind, inviting you back to the past, say no. And spend some time back in the moment when you laughed and laughed with those you love. And remember that they laughed too.

senses. tonight.

See...
The lights are low, candles burn in every corner, on every table. Paintings on the walls. Garland, baubles, lights adorn the hearth. Faces captivated by sound. People holding mugs of coffee, tea, wine glasses, forks poised over coconut cake and brownies. Musicians enraptured by the music they create. Little girls become friends as they dance together. Clapping hands, tapping toes. A woman with long white hair and a ladybug hairpin bobs her head up and down like a jack in the box keeping time with the music. Sometimes it is as though she thinks she is the bow the fiddle player uses; she seems as though she creates the music. Her foot kicks in the air under the table. Families, couples, friends...community.

Taste...
Coffee, milk, chocolate, mint. Peppermint mocha.

Hear...
Piano, fiddle, flute, banjo, drum. Laughter. Snippets of conversation. Coffee grinding. Espresso machine. Singing, clapping, children giggling. An Irish lilt in song.

Smell...
Coffee beans, candlewax, chocolate, warmth.

Touch...
The velvet of my skirt; the soft cashmere of my sweater. The warmth of my husband's hand. The hot, smooth, steaming mug. The floor beneath my feet as I tap my heel and dance in small movements in my chair.

And know...
You may have moments when your heart feels small. Invite music, laughter, dance inside and you will remember how big your heart has always been.

senses. warmth.

Inspired by this post by Frida on Muse to Muse, I have decided to dedicate one post a week to the senses.

See...
The sunlight warms Millie's face as we stand outside together. She is looking for squirrel chasing possibilities, but I like to think that she is happy to feel the sun again. Maybe both. She gives me the gift of learning more patience as she chases those squirrels when I want her to come back inside because I am running late. She reminds me to laugh as she curiously inspects our Christmas tree. She personifies contentment when she curls up on the couch next to me as I work on yoga homework - she puts her head on my arm and watches me write. She is beautiful.

Hear...
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire...
and all that good stuff. I will say it here again, I love Christmas music. And I love to be in concert as I sing. In the car, at home, while I work (at home), and sometimes you might catch me singing in a soft whisper at a store this time of year. Some songs are funny, some poignant, some invite a tear, others are full of joy - literally. My heart feels just a little lighter when I hear these songs.

Smell...
These cookies baking (if you have been afraid to make sugar cookies, make this recipe...they are amazing. and email me for little tips if you need them!). I have made them almost every holiday season for 15 years. The almond extract gives them a wonderful smell. And a new favorite baking tradition - this cake. As it bakes the smell torments you as your nose tells your stomach "it's time for some of that." You can frost it while it is still a little warm. Perfect. (especially if you are like me and you love pumpkin, but not when it comes in pie form.)

Touch...
Lush, soft, warm throws from Churchill Weavers. I have had one near me since I was born. My "pink blanket" years ago. Now I have one in almost every room. I once drove five hundred miles wearing one as a shawl after my heart was just a little bit broken. I was driving through Berea, stopped at the store, and wrapped myself and my heart up to heal. Wrapping up in self-kindness can often be a cure. And these blankets help remind you to do that.

Taste...
peppermint mochas...pumpkin spice lattes...peppermint tea...
The flavors dance on your tongue. Remind you of snowy days and being warmed by the fire. Feel the warm liquid slide down your throat as it warms your belly. Take the time to enjoy. Sip by sip. Find your favorite flavor. Let this be a daily meditation this time of year.

And know...
There is a light inside of you that glows in these winter months. Warm yourself up.