I have discovered, to my dismay, I have probably developed an allergy to incense. No! I love incense and I am pretty particular about what I burn.
I usually use incense in concert with candles creating a nice welcoming vibe. 🕯
Saturday after hubby left for work (he works night shift) I lit two candles and burned a stick my most favorite incense. I’d made a yummy fish dinner and you know how the fish smell hangs out, so I figured some candle flames and the gentle incense would freshen the rooms. The ceiling fans were moving the air so I did the dishes and settled into the evening to watch the University of Arizona Wildcats beat yUCLA in basketball.
With in a couple of hours I noticed some congestion building, and I was starting to cough – things got worse.
By the time I got in bed I was having typical allergy symptoms: running nose, watery eyes, cough, sneezing, it was awful. I ruled out the candles since I had been using them nearly every day, but the incense was the difference.
So now what? My body got busy clearing it out by pumping my head with histamines, and my sinuses have been overflowing with the yucky mucous stuff. Oh man it’s a drag. No headache, fever or sore throat, thank goodness. Tonight is a Navage before bed and cough medicine with a decongestant.
Anyone need some incense?
Hippies never age, we mellow. All that peace and love wore us out like the line from a movie says, “how much sex, drugs, fun can you handle?” I remember the sixties and most of the seventies.
I was that skinny girl with long brown hair in the “maxi” skirt swaying to the music. I would escape my family, go to Himmel park, and sit until I was joined by a few cool people with strong bud and we would talk, listen to someone play guitar and make connections. This was my own private world. I’ve never shared it until this moment, written as it were in precious stone.
I burned candles and incense, read High Times and Rolling Stone. I had black lights and plants everywhere. I remember seeing the movie “The Sand Pipers” and thinking I wanted to live there, on a cliff in a cool two story beach house surrounded by art and music.
Funny, I would still like that.
Because my life was rather transient recently my house had a low maintenance feel. Now that it seems I will be here for a couple more years, at least until I can move to a colder clime things are taking on some of the old energy, including me. I have starting wearing the long skirts again, my hair is long as before, but now the plants, candles and incense are coming back.
I love fabric and textures. Smelling old books or plants whose leaves are bumpy or fuzzy. Words that bathe you in feeling whether read or sung. Sensory impact.
A few of those hippie memories are not pleasant. I was taken advantage of for being rather naïve and trusting causing a few scars but for the most part it is treasured in my mind. I was young, open and free, then life intruded and expected conformity and compromise which I gave. Now the circle is almost joined. Open and free are in my line of sight. Instead of being a hippie I have decided I will be a pixie.