The Scent of Love

Whether we have five or six senses is not the point today.  The most important sense for me growing up has been scent.  I'm fascinated by it.  It matters.  Not having the words to articulate what draws me to Tohoku again and again, I'm at a loss.  Do I credit scent or something else I can't put my finger on?  Let me explain.

I'm in love.  With my husband, yes.  I love my family, yes.  I also have a new love.  This new love does not compete with my love for those back home.  It adds to it. 

I don't know how else to say it.  There's something here in Tohoku that keeps pulling me back.  Yes, the scent here is different than anywhere else.  The freshness of the air, the ocean, the crispness of the mountains immediately behind the sea with its musk and earthy smell, it culminates in a scent the nostrils cannot pick up.  It hits my psyche.  It goes straight to my soul.

The 12-year old me would get on a bus by myself and make my way downtown to buy my favorite shampoo and conditioner.  It was the scent that made me want to travel 30 minutes into town by myself.  That's how important it was to me.  I still remember the scent of my mother's compact, tucked away in a drawer in her dresser.  The bejeweled golden case made me think this is what Marie Antoinette or Mata Hari must have used.  It was beautiful.  The scent, however, is what drew me back to sneak a peak at it, powdering my nose and hoping my mother would not notice.

In Tohoku, there is a power that transcends my favorite sense.  A vortex of goodness?  Perhaps.  Every trip I make to Rikuzentakata City Hall has me wondering what it is about the employees there who are so genuinely happy.  What is about the people of Ofunato that make them exude happiness?  What does this place have?  What is it? 

I choose to assume it's something in the air.  That the people breathe it day in, day out, it must does do something to them.  Their desire to move forward, their drive, motivation, resolve--it must come from somewhere.  Does breathing fresh air, the scent of purity, make people happy?  Why don't other cities far removed from large metropolitan areas also share this same trait then?  Why don't people there ooze this same joie de vivre?

Whatever it is, I'm hooked.  The scent of love is entrenched in my nostrils.  For that, I'm grateful.  It fuels me.  Next step is to harness this scent and make a new perfume out of it.  My to-do list just got longer.  Again.