The nicest thing about being sick, is to be at home and not have to worry about being anywhere else. I can reach into my own medicine cabinet and pull out just enough for what I need. But I do not have just any old cabinet filled with prescription drugs and cosmetics, I have a whole bathroom full of odds and ends, mostly odds.
This week I have been drained of poetry, my stomach has been tied up in an endless knot of pain from some kind of flu, and the only means of relief seems to be rest and fluids. The last couple of days I have kept close to bed and stayed offline. I hand wrote essays and concentrated on my painting. A little bit of sewing seemed to help me keep my mind off the ache in my belly.
I always have a few roots, herbs, and oils to count on for any kind of little emergency. Plus I am an aromatherapy nut. My sense of smell is very strong and I connect some smells with different moods. Perfume oils and waters are essential parts of my nightly rituals. When I feel most distressed and ill, I will use everything in my power to take care of myself. I just spray a little homemade perfume in the air or on my pillows and the scent sets me off into another state of mind. I even make my own “potions” and tinctures to rid myself of bothersome things, especially the kind of things that distract me from achieving my goals the most: nausea, anxiety, and depression. But what bothers me the most is little flu bugs that rot my gut, and allergies, aches and pains, those stupid things I cannot avoid that hold me back from doing what I need and want to do.
Besides taking my usual medications and vitamins, I dab my pulse points with a little lavender, lemon, and peppermint oil. I carry with me a tiny bag of five-finger grass and other small charms for good measure. I say prayers, recite tiny mantras, and repeat rituals that, if you were to ask my doctors, keep me quite sane. These are just a few small things some people would not understand and consider superstitious behavior. Oh, but who cares? This is my house. My rules. My thing. And, you know what? It makes me happy.
I do not have to explain anything. Never explain away the things that give you hope and power. Sometimes not revealing the mystery keeps things powerful. When it all becomes common, the spells get watered down, useless. It is like my father says, “Once you give away your secrets to just anyone, they will lose their power.”
So. When you come home to my place and dare to sneak a peek into my medicine cabinet, well… First you will notice my extremely large collection of nail lacquer. But two shelves are especially reserved for my potions. You can tell a lot about people from looking into their medicine cabinets. I believe mine says I am a woman who loves her glamour and magic organized side-by-side.
I am feeling better now. This postcard is late. I have not taken very many walks outside, my photography is lacking fresh material. My strength is coming back, yet a lack of energy still pulls me under my blankets. The sunlight has been teasing me, asking me to come out! I have stayed in my nightgown and robe because every attempt I made to move around got me dizzy and sick. As I revive, I hope to have a little adventure soon, but for now I am content to keep my adventures in my dreams.