Over the last year I've researched an Ayurvedic diet. I've learned that I am predominately kapha in constitution, which means I am able to sink deep into the earth, binge-watch netflix and not recognize the existence of other human beings for days at a time.
I've also been working out what foods are healthy for me, ideal times to eat and not eat at Chick-Fil-A (it's always an ideal time), and that there's an infinite combination of vegetables and fruits that I can add to kale smoothie, but it all ends up tasting pretty much the same each time.
One of the greatest discoveries I've made through the diet is the power of cayenne pepper. When you sprinkle a bit of cayenne into an iced tea or coffee, it creates a buzz even greater than the caffeine in the coffee.
The other morning I woke up way too early, dripped some coffee, reached up to the spice rack for cayenne, and mistakenly pulled down a jar of turmeric.
The scent of the spice transported me.
It wafted me back to a year ago, when my then-roommate would make us smoothies every day, and I'm guessing she'd add a dose of turmeric to what she'd call the deliciousness of the kale.
I didn't know this then, though.
I hadn't placed the taste of the smoothie with the scent of the spice. And the scent of the spice now connects me with someone's loving, thoughtful daily action.
We all go through the routines of life: I wake up, I drink a shake, I drive to work. I check facebook, I mindlessly scroll instagram. Same rituals, same process, every day. Days blend into one another, becoming a hazy cloud of sameness.
But once in a while, though, the scent of spice seeps through the routine, and can wake us up.