Olfactory Hues
Early September, 2022
When I was young, the kitchen in my home was covered in yellow wallpaper. Buttery, soft yellow with a faded square pattern to be precise. I spent countless hours in that kitchen, baking with my mom, annoying my mom, and occasionally trying my own hand at baking - the latter sounds as bad as it was. I once followed a recipe which called for separating egg whites. After battling through my initial confusion, I hard boiled the eggs and removed the fully cooked yokes, whipping them into a bowl full of other ingredients. At that stage of my life, I couldn’t fathom another way to separate whites, so I adapted and made it work within the schema I had. Adapting is a useful skill in my line of work, so I guess in some way I was preparing for the future---well, that, and making extremely crumbly cookies :). Whenever I see a hue of soft yellow, it reminds me of my early childhood kitchen, and I smell cookies.
The same is true in the reverse scenario. In the spring when I am out with the goats, I’ll get a whiff of onion grass on their breath. Instantly, I am transported back to high school lacrosse practice and can see the long, green grass which, when freshly mowed, smelled like there were onions floating in the breeze.
At the end of each summer, I clean the goat shed by turning over and shoveling out old wood chips. When I do this, I am hit by an ammonia smell that brings me back to the monkey house at the Brandywine Zoo in Delaware. I can see the dank, dark hallway at the entrance and can hear the sounds of the monkeys calling to each other.
Marcel Proust said that, "The smell and taste of things remain poised a long time, ready to remind us... the immense edifice of memory.” In fact, even creating new behavior is better achieved when all five senses are activated in the learning process. This activation of the senses can help when generating new neural pathways. Often mediation and mindfulness practices begin with a body and senses scan. We may hear things like, “What sensations are you feeling? What can you hear? Taste? Smell?” By becoming aware of our sensory experience, we are better able to connect to the present moment.
As a teacher, I found that when my students were feeling anxious and in a state of fight or flight, focusing on the five senses seemed to slow down their racing brains. They moved away from their emotional minds and into their wise minds with more ease. Just focusing on their senses helped them self-regulate. One of my students would tell me she saw red arrows when she was in a heightened state. I would help her focus on the sound of her breathing until I could guide her to where the red arrows could meet blue circles and become purple waves. Purple, to her, was quiet.
Helping Friendly Farm (HFF) is intended to be a safe place where the senses are engaged and memories are made. The blue meditation room in the sensory barn invokes calm, while the colors visitors choose to project in the light/sound room can reflect their moods. The chimes outside on the pathways allow for gross-motor activated sound. The herbs in the hugelkultur gardens all have unique smells, textures, and tastes to explore. The squawks of the chickens demand attention, while the bleats of the goats call for human affection. Each sense that is stimulated becomes part of the HFF experience. I’m hopeful that the smells, colors, tastes, sounds, and textures of the farm will elicit positive memories of peace and joy for our visitors for years to come.