You probably don’t imagine your perfumer will talk to you about spirituality–even though, some of the first perfumers were Egyptian priests. You also may not expect discussions of current Western Allopathic dementia treatments and Cognitive Behavioral Therapy–even though Perfumers were some of the first “physicians” mentioned in the Bible.

I believe the ability to smell is an undervalued skill–until you lose it. I also believe that because the olfactory bulb is part of the amygdala, scent has the power to effect us emotionally and can be used as a tool for our mental health.

I am not your average perfumer. I am the nose for Modern Peasant (tagline: Scents for Sensitive People), a Board Member for the Institute of Art & Olfaction, a Reiki Master Teacher and an educator in natural perfumery, meditation and more.

Meditation methods and practices tied to scent and memory have helped me retrain my brain towards happiness by reminding me I was loved/capable/(name your self-esteem attribute) by connecting each feeling with a particular scent. It’s not a new concept. Why do you think realtors bake cookies in a house before an open house? The smell reminds people of home, mom baking in the kitchen when you walk in the door! Good way to plant an olfactory subliminal message to help people feel more at home, connecting personal memories to the house you want to sell .

I still feel all the feelings and can get very sad when life hits me with the unexpected Tower (tarot reference for “when shit in hits the fan despite your best efforts”). But the bounce back is quicker now and the spiral down phase has a limited window of opportunity now. My most unexpected ally in my quest for contentment in life? My sense of smell.

This blog is meant to be a guide to happiness that literally asks you to Follow Your Nose. My methods may not work for everyone, but try an Anchor Scent Practice and see if this method is effective for you. It is not about solving all your problems at once. That solution does not exist. As my mother always said, “It’s always something.” But buoyancy is possible and in my world it starts the same way…breathe through your nose.

You may not expect a perfumer to offer deep thoughts on life, the cosmos, emotional well-being and everything at no cost. But I am the Modern Peasant, so read on.

The story goes, Ogun, the god of iron and innovation, had grown depressed by the state of the world—the state of humanity ceaselessly using his gifts to bully and injure. So, deciding he could see no more, he took himself and his gifts into a cave. To stay.

With Ogun gone from the world, civilizations began to break down. Obatala, his father and King of the gods asked him to come out. “There is no beauty left in the world. I am staying here. “

Shango, the God of Justice, tries to reason with him. And still Ogun refuses to leave. His mother, Yemanja, the Goddess of the Ocean tries to flood him out.

And still Ogun refused to leave.

Iyansa called up her army of the dead. Ogun quickly sent them back to peace and, still refused to leave. This back and forth with the gods trying to trick, reason, and bully Ogun out of the cave (while the world slid back into the Dark Ages) were unsuccessful.

As the gods discussed new tactics to get Ogun out of his cave, Ochun cleared her throat. Ochun, Goddess of the Sweet water, known for her beauty, her sensuality, and her deep and abiding sense of self-respect said, “I can get him out.”

The gods laughed, “You! What can you do to get him out?” Obatala stepped in to restore order before Ochun got mad and took herself away again  (but that’s another story). “Ochun, if you can bring your brother from the cave, you can save humanity.”

Ochun looked back at the gods who still giggled. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and slowly straightened her dress over every curve of her body. The giggling ceased. Dry throats attempted to swallow. Ochun had that effect. She was sensuality incarnate and neither god nor man was immune. Slowly, sauntering towards the cave her hips beat out a rhythm that churned rivers and smashed with force against the rocks in a waterfall. Just as quickly, the water pooled into a basin dug from its own force and tenacity.

Ochun’s newly created lake was just outside of Ogun’s cave. Sacred plants of basil sprung up, showing this to be a protected space, cleansed of lower energies. Shrubs of honeysuckle, fragrant in full bloom, cast a sweetness into the air. She knew the perfumed breeze would announce her and, so, she stripped off her dress—appreciating every sensation of the air against her naked skin—and waded into the water.

Ochun began to lather her body sensuously with honey, slowly washing and rubbing the honey across her neck, her breasts, her belly...And Ogun stood erect before her—out of his cave.

The moral of the story—besides the obvious aphorism of attracting bees with honey—is to never underestimate the power of scent when coupled with a woman embracing her divine sexual energy.