I (heart) body odor

Armpit (aka Axilla)7:55 am commuting to work during rush hour. Jump onto the A train. There’s a coveted corner seat – yay!

I nestle my foot through one strap of my backpack (for security) and put it on the floor behind my legs so that I can meditate.

I close my eyes.

I inhale.

I exhale.

As I inhale again I notice the person sitting beside me.

Pungent, distinctive, not unpleasant.


Our noses gather important and interesting information about each other. Sometimes (rarely in our hygiene-obsessed society) we may smell someone whose aroma is truly unpleasant — often due to illness or poverty or both. And this may make us recoil (when it is an opportunity to practice compassion).

But what about normalizing the notion of human aromatherapy?

Dogs, cats, and other mammals sniff each other to say hello and to exchange news and other information.

We can reclaim this ancient talent/habit too.

What is not normal: for a living, breathing, pulsing, sweating, digesting creature to have no scent. (In the best-selling novel from 1985 “Perfume” his scentlessness was the macabre mark of the murderer).

Erasure of an entire realm of sensory experience is weird, sad, and possibly dangerous.

There is a very good reason why you and I have been taught that to smell like anything human is shameful:
manufacturing an unscented human is big business.

The personal care products industry generates $250 billion every year.

Don’t sell yourself into nothingness. Savor your showers, primp with perfume, but don’t be afraid of your signature scent.


Breathe in

Breathe out

Connect to yourself

Connect to us all.

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