I flopped under the covers, while two cats slept curled. I pursued sleep. Sleepy time was maxed out by a three-day cold. Sorry, out of stock. I had watched way too much social media coverage of coverage. A couple of sleepless hours went by with me squishing the down pillow into just the right shape, or gathering the covers over my shoulder and trying the other side.
Finally, I sat up cross legged on top of the blanket and breathed regularly pushing attention into my body. Locating the chakras and scanning bones, limbs, organs. My thoughts quieted from a full Tweet storm to a mild mumble. My breath deepened. Then I noticed that lovely feeling of air flowing through the crown of my head. Relaxed, nasal congestion let up. I felt a clean stream through my sinuses and oxygenated brain. I sat.
I wondering if paying attention to smell would enhance the uptake of air or affect the function. This curiosity led to trying a nostril flare, which felt good, like a tiny stretch I’d forgotten to do. I noticed that my flared nose moistened the increased flow of air. It made me recall friends who flare their nostrils when they laugh or talk. My nostrils have been too passive, I decided.
I sank awhile into super conscious space, in quiet, with the sense of soft light inside. Still.
After I opened my eyes and slid back under the covers, I thought, “Now I will sleep.”
I was curious about the small changes I’d felt. [Now dear reader, when I told my girl friend on the phone this morning, I felt like a cartoon character and we had a good laugh.] If you are thinking, “Wow, what a nutty post. Where is this going? ” I get it.
“I should open the screened window and smell the night air. It will be so clean,” I said mentally. Slid the wood frame open, and leaned on the sill. I kept my eyes closed to focus on the olfactory. At first, the scent of dust from the screen. Then a bit of air wafted in and I detected unidentifiable plant smells, a touch of a smoky odor, and —
Smoky, my big cat, was by me, paws on the sill looking out. I had been sniffing so attentively he expected to see Something in the yard. He was all hunt cat business, alert, focused. I was like a kid.
For awhile, two alert beings, we listening, sniffed and peered into the cloud moonlit yard. He could hear things I couldn’t, so I’d follow his gaze. “So, now I’m turning into a cat?” I wondered silently.
Now I was ready to sleep. Smoky jumped back over onto a blanket and I smelled him. It was clearly his individual cat odor. I’d known it before, but this was fresh recognition. Here’s a weird writing prompt: Describe as precisely as possible the way your cat [or pet] smells.
This morning awoke refreshed, changed the sheets and left my sick bed. My meditation made it clear I’m dealing with typical spring time reactions we allergy sufferers endure — and it’s not the Covid-19 virus. Fear is constricting to both our noses and minds. Today I will take a media break.
My doctor emailed requesting a phone conference on my persistent symptoms, so perhaps we’ll come up with new ways to deal with the histamine overload of being allergic to dust, grass, weeds, etc. Even so, flared nostrils felt good today. 🙂