Scents and Sensibility

I had massive anxiety last Wednesday night, the night before we left to drive my son six hours north to college. When I tell you I’ve had a ticker tape running through my head for months, I am not exaggerating. The checklist of what he’s going to need, forms that need to be filled out, dates to upload documents, things they suggest you plan on…well, it has been ceaseless, running underneath whatever else has been on my plate from day to day. By the time everyone went to bed, the boxes were taped up and ready by the door, weekend bags were packed, the dog sitter was confirmed, everything was done. But I was awake the way I always am the night before something momentous or stressful is about to happen - the kind of awake you have to accept because fighting it is pointless, even after thirty-plus years of yoga. I did some 4-7-8 breathing, I tried to write, eventually I got in the shower. I went to bed at about 5:30am, knowing I’d have to get up at 8 and get ready for the drive. 

As I write this, the weekend has happened already, my son is up at school, and I am in the den, writing in my pajamas. We have texted every day and Facetimed once. He is doing well, and because he is doing well, I am okay. I want to write more about the intense grief that is wrapped up in the experience of loving people with your entire heart, and I will. I want to share more about the way my heart-rate decelerated once we got to the redwoods, or how psyched I was that my Type A insanity actually served a purpose when it came to hacking the small space that is his dorm room. I want to tell you the only thing I forgot was my deodorant, and that was easily remedied. I want to write about a lot of things, and I will, but also, this world we’re living in is insane, and I want to write about that, too.

I don’t want to exhaust you, but the world is exhausting and the news cycle is relentless and even though I want to write a post about my kid, or about natural deodorants and how they don’t work except for the ones that do (but those are the ones that give me rashes) I really don’t think I can, because who cares if I use Dove right now and happen to smell great? I know it has aluminum in it, but sometimes you have to make hard choices in life.

Scents comfort me so I have a subtle perfume I like that is all natural and I sprayed it all over myself after my shower because I knew it would soothe me, but does it matter if I use Dove? Do I have to be using vegan organic products exclusively to win your favor? Who said I wanted your favor, anyway? I mean I do, but I don’t if you’re a judgy dick who’s only going to like me if I do all of your approved things. We know the world has enough of those folks right now. And they’re always the ones who end up having the worst shit in their closets. Like Mark Robinson, mister “Christian” I hate trans people except if I’m watching porn. And I’m Black but let’s bring back slavery because that wasn’t so bad. And abortions happen in this country because women are irresponsible and can’t keep their skirts down. He sounds very Christian. I digress.

Once I tried Native deodorant which is highly rated and I thought I’d finally found “the one” but two weeks in I woke up and my armpits were sunburnt red like I’d slathered them in baby oil, gone to the beach, and fallen asleep with my arms overhead like some kind of earthbound Icarus tempting the gods to teach me a lesson - and they felt that way, too. It’s me, it’s not the product. Seriously if you’re looking for natural deodorant, that’s a good one to try, it works for many people. But not for me. Because not everything works for every one of us and so no one should be able to pass laws that determine the level of healthcare you can receive based on the state where you live, or suddenly decide to reclassify a lifesaving drug and make it a controlled substance so it can’t be on birth carts anymore and more women may die. And more little kids may have to grow up without their moms. 

Amber Thurman won’t get to take her son to college, but I did, I got to do that. Then we have people running for office like Bernie Moreno (R, duh) who says all these suburban women over 50 sure are talking about abortion a lot even though it doesn't affect them. I’m sorry…what?? It’s odd to you that women may care about things that don’t affect them directly? Does it not occur to you that many of us have daughters, sisters, friends…or that we might just care about half the population having different access to the same rights you as a man take for granted? I digress again, shoot. I almost died during childbirth with my son, and he almost died, too, so it’s hard for me to stay neutral about this. 

My son says I’m the internet’s favorite target because I’ll see things and try them. That makes me sound like a big shopper, but anyone who knows me will tell you I’m not. Except for things like natural deodorants I keep trying pretty much as soon as I forget what happened the last time I tried one, or an occasional lip pencil like this one, which is really great except the cap was too big and fell off easily and then I lost it so I couldn’t carry it in my bag anymore. Which was a bummer because you kind of want to be able to carry a lip pencil with you if you’re going to have one. I also bought a t-shirt that says Gen X: Raised on hose water and neglect because it made me laugh, and a few t-shirts from Four Seasons Total Landscaping because who doesn’t want to support a woman-owned business run by women who clearly have a great sense of humor? 

Anyway, the point is I’m not a big shopper, just once in a while something will catch my eye that I think is funny or cool. But it sucks that I can’t use natural deodorant. Not as much as it sucks that the guy who’s running for president is endorsing Mark Robinson for governor of North Carolina even though he is a reprehensible pig who should never be heard from again - and also says he’s better than MLK, Jr.

Know what else is a huge no and would instantly disqualify someone from holding the highest office in the land if it were up to me? Cozying up to a white nationalist who tweets disgusting things like this:

And he brings her - a woman who believes 9/11 was “an inside job” - to a 9/11 memorial service. Still, though, he loses no support. As someone who was born in NYC, who grew up there, who was there on 9/11, whose heart broke that day and never un-broke, it’s hard for me to find the words to say how offensive that is. 

But this is a silly thing to write about, because we are talking about an adjudicated rapist convicted of 34 felonies, and yet the man has the support of a terrifying number of people who don’t care. And I want to say everyone should be able to vote for any ticket they like - and they should, of course. The thing that is troubling to me, and by “troubling” I mean devastating, is why we aren’t able to agree on just some very basic things. I mean, all of the above, but also, how can you wage a war on women and every other marginalized group, and still have so much support? When laws are being written that clearly endanger women and girls across the country, how is it possible we can’t all agree that isn’t okay? 

I’m no Pollyanna. I realize human beings are capable of enormous cruelty, violence and self-absorption. I know people can dehumanize entire races of people, leave them outside their circle of compassion, and justify treating them like dirt. I’m a student of history. I am not confused about where we’ve been, who we’ve been, and who we still are. I also know all too well there are men like Diddy in the world, men like Dominique Pelicot, men like Andrew Luster, men who want to dominate and control women because otherwise it threatens their sense of power. And a lot of them are writing laws, but isn’t it funny that Bernie Moreno says women over 50 shouldn’t worry about abortion because it doesn’t affect them directly, and not see how hilariously ironic that is? If that’s the bar, no man should be talking about abortion or legislating about it, but tell that to Ken Paxton.

Can you see how this is the same thing? Women are being harmed and violated by men, and no one is doing anything. And listen, I know there are some awful women out there, too, I’m not confused. And there are plenty of women who are signing on for all this. It’s just that men have the power in a patriarchy. 

I suppose I thought we’d come further than this, all evidence to the contrary. No matter how hard I try, I can’t understand how the guy running to be president can fly around with a woman who just tweeted that horrible thing above, and has said countless other horrifying things, and somehow we carry on like this is a normal circumstance we can expect from someone who is trying to hold the highest office in the land. But it isn’t normal. It wasn’t normal when he was talking about grabbing women by the pussy, either. It will never be normal.

I guess I just long for some normal. A news cycle that isn’t exhausting. A minute to just be with the normal grief in life. I should be able to write to you about the agony of driving away from my kid on Sunday, leaving him in a dorm room we’d just organized, in a place he doesn’t know well, with a routine he hasn’t developed yet, surrounded by new people. I texted him on the way to pick him up for breakfast on Sunday, before we left. I told him I didn’t want to make things harder for him, but I just seemed to be leaking from my eyes and wasn’t sure I could stop it. He said he expected it and not to worry. He’s a good kid, and he knows his mom.

You spend eighteen years moving toward your children, trying to keep them alive when they’re little, making sure they feel loved and secure, delighting in the things they delight in, trying to expose them to the beauty in this world (there’s still a lot of that, thank god), trying to anticipate what they might need, thinking ahead each day…and then you drive to college one weekend, get them settled, and drive away. It’s insane. It hurts. I had to wipe tears from my eyes so I could see as I drove - three different times because I was so overcome it was hard to breathe. I didn’t want to upset my daughter who was also emotional, but grief is part of love and sometimes it does you in. My son was good by the time we got home. He’d been to Trader Joe’s with his roommates and was heading to a party with his girlfriend. I felt relieved and I realized if he’s okay, then I’m okay. I can handle grief. 

This is the stuff I want to be writing about. I want to tell you how strange it is to walk by his room, to be in the house and know he isn’t going to come busting through the door later, booming “Hola!” (his Duolingo streak is over a year long and counting) and telling me about his day. I want to tell you that you’ll never appreciate texting and Facetime more than you do when one of your kids is in college. I want a better world than this for my son and my daughter, but also, all of us.

I want to be able to write about natural deodorant and extremism and have you understand why it matters. That sometimes things that are supposed to be good for you just don’t work, and that no one can do everything to make the world better, but everyone can do something - as the saying goes. I’ll share one last anecdote with you for now. Years ago I was at my local grocery store, The Co-op. I ran into an acquaintance. I was about to head to Europe to lead a yoga retreat, and I had a box of stevia packets in my cart. “Oh my god!,” she exclaimed, “those packets are so wasteful! I need to teach you how to shop.” In her cart were several pounds of red meat. I haven’t eaten meat in decades. I am a human being, so I had a moment where I wanted to explain to her that eating red meat regularly is a lot more harmful to the environment than my once-a-year-stevia-packet-purchase, but I didn’t bother. She was so confident about being the one to teach me the error of my ways, so I let it ride. 

I don’t tell people what to eat or how to think, but I’ll always share my views if I’m asked. I’m not here to judge anyone and I don’t want to argue, but I will fight for people and ideals I believe in, I will fight for people who have less power than I do, and I will call it out if I see something that is not okay. I don’t want to have to point out the things that I think we all learned in the sandbox, but I do want to be able to live. I do want my daughter to have the same rights to lifesaving healthcare and bodily autonomy as my son. And not everything works for everyone, and it never will. My carnivorous friend at the grocery store probably uses Native with no problem. And maybe next week I will be able to write more about the empty bedroom of one of the two people I love most in a world that feels like it could teeter right off its axis.

I am heading to NYC to inter my mother’s ashes, something I will write about at some point. I will, once again, miss the live podcast recording, but I will record it before I go and publish on Saturday as usual. Thank you so much for your incredible comments, for your re-stacks, and for riding this bumpy ride along with me. I appreciate you more than I can say. Sending you love.