Dipping into adventures

I could write from the heart today and say that this (my path and current career) is the most beautiful surprise I could have come across to. Sometimes, things like this come when you get out of your way, when you give a chance to something new that it might look scary or have you unprepared.

I can’t plan everything, and this I am glad to say that it was a lovingly unplanned trip to take. I wouldn’t have taken it any other way. And this morning I woke up just with the idea of negation to another possible adventure. “I don’t want this now”. But in the past I figured it out quite well. There's a difference, I’d say, because I was preparing at home for this without knowing. My head was already linking ideas to heal others or help them with small skin issues and lack of vitamins for immune system. And at the moment that I jumped into the pool I wasn’t that nervous (at least I can say that now) because I had tricks under my arm to get out to play a part.

I had a story to tell and that story was coming to one day to the next.

Today I had a few to get out of the way: to rescue a neighbours’ calendula and also to make candles out of reused oil and wax, maybe with a bit of Christmas scent to go with it. I want to clean my house and get it Christmassy my way. I don’t want to sit in silence looking for inspiration when I am actually having ideas all the time that I choose to dismiss for another one more attractive. What if that is it all? For now, at least. You don’t know what you will get if you don’t try this. And believe me, I can have million of ideas at once and I can get so overwhelmed that I'd end up doing almost none.

Well, I should do otherwise.

Maybe that’s the voice that I was waiting for. The same reason for which I chose to write about my fennel and liquorice and aniseed soap. I need to make that to talk about some areas of Seville that nobody talks about but they are special for me.

There is a connection with tradition and certain things that never change. And I know for a fact that if go back to that corner I will find that man selling these sweet sticks. I wouldn’t even remember the man’s face, not even the name (that’d be a surprise coming from me). But I’d remember the amount of treats I could get from him at an affordable price. And even that, price doesn’t matter that much, because what it unravels is an experience: It wakes up memories.

And for the chamomille sake I could say that it is a new memory, not wrong or worse or bad at all, but new. It talks about how things that are natural can taste so much different when you give it a try. Of course, I won’t like something that has been designed as a medicine and processed enough for me to not notice the effects. But when you taste the real thing treated with love and care, wanting to grow wild and safe, the taste differs so much from a memory and a different setting. And that’s why I should try this too. Maybe not now, maybe to join with daisy when they are back, or maybe as a memory on its own, why not? Do not think that much and just try.

But I do feel more inclined now to make an essence of cold winter in the city of Seville, with an intention to make it feel homier. I can’t just go around enquiring what people want, because most of the time they don’t know. They just want you to tell them what they could use and what it could tell a story in order to see the soap they are purchasing in a different way.

This is the way I am trying to approach. There is an experience way beyond a soap bar that it needs to be there to connect with a memory, or to create a new one in your imagination. Maybe a candle could go with it if I just poured it in the wax to leave the smell, or in the oil. I could create my own set of stories to go together and even if they are just a beginning they could mean the starting point of a company union. But not now. Now I need to find the right connections to my ideas and show them around. While the others are maturing, like what smell to give to the calendula. Maybe its own one? Would it be good or strong enough? It doesn’t need to. People know the smell of it, no need to hide it. So why to mask it with a citrus strong smell that just doesn’t go with it in your head, no matter what other sources say.

Maybe you could just follow your intuition and start to infuse smells on a oil and then use them with the intention of sharing those memories. Those views in a crowded city corner, where that many times I sat to wait for somebody. No phone. I’d just look at people passing around, carrying on with their lives. And that tiny table still untouched, that man there doing the same as me: Watching the life go by, sometimes being a part of it when a person got interested: “What is that?", "Can it be eaten?”, “How is that sugar?”

And then you enter in a world in which a man is telling you how a root is the ground level of your food diet, maybe in a rustic way. But didn’t we all come from that rustic life anyway? What’s the fuss?

We just forgot, that’s all. But the good thing is that there’s reminders all around. We can acknowledge them or dismiss them like an annoyance. We can be open to accept them or just be fixated in our ways and lives with as little changes as possible. That’s the two paths that we could choose from.

Well, I should leave you now as the smell of the calendula on my table is calling my attention to some action. So I will surrender to it and do something with my day.

Good day to you.