The perfume of illusions

We are surrounded by a cloud of perfume. We feel it. Others feel it too.

Today I chose the perfume of anger. It smells of rotten eggs. A friend approaches me and gently asks why I am wearing it. He says it is difficult for him to stay close because the smell is strong. I become irritated. How dare he? I spray more.

Another friend appears and offers me a different perfume. Something lighter. Something that could blend with mine and soften it. I send him away.

Now I sit alone, wrapped in my fragrance. After a while I no longer smell it. I have become accustomed to it. But everyone who approaches me still can.

This is how illusions work: they are not only the stories we tell ourselves; they are the emotional perfumes we wear for so long that we mistake them for our natural scent.
The perfume of anger, of victimhood, of superiority, of being right, of not being enough, of having been wounded, and so on. You choose it, according to your frequency.

Some fragrances are inherited. Some are learned. Some are chosen. And some were once useful but remained long after their purpose had passed.

The healing journey begins when we notice the fragrance, not when we throw away the bottle. 🙂

The moment we become aware of it, a distance appears between who we are and what we are wearing. Perhaps this is one of Chiron’s gifts: the discovery that suffering is not our identity, instead of the elimination of suffering.

I am the one who notices the perfume.