One night a few years ago I woke from a dead sleep by the smell of cigarette smoke. It must have been three in the morning, but the smell of a fresh cigarette was so close it was as if someone were standing in the room with me and smoking. I don't smoke, and my neighbors don't smoke, either, except for Dick, who after a shift at the sewage treatment plant occasionally smokes a cigar on his porch. I was puzzled, but also drugged by the Sandman, and as the smell faded I fell back asleep.
A few weeks later I was eating dinner when I smelled fresh, pungent cigarette smoke again. This time I went outside and walked around my house. I couldn't smell the smoke outside, and I didn't see anyone smoking. Again, after fifteen minutes or so the smell went away. I mentioned my strange cigarette smoke incidents to my friend, Pom, who is psychic (I recommend having a psychic friend if you can manage it), and she said, "Oh! I know who it is! Your uncle!" I have three uncles. All of them are alive and none of them smokes.
I asked my father if he knew who in my family was a smoker, and he immediately told me about my grandmother's brother, my great uncle Bruce. Bruce was a hard-drinking, arts-loving, gay real estate agent in Laguna Beach, and he smoked like a chimney. He and his partner, Ernie, moved from Laguna Beach to a rural area in Northern California in the 1950s where they gave away much of their fortune to help the local Pit River Indians. Eventually they missed their social life in Southern California and moved back. Uncle Bruce died of cirrhosis of the liver before I was born. I like the thought that he was hanging out at my house for a while, but I'm stumped as to why he'd stop by.
The ability to smell psychically is called "clairalience" or "clairolfaction". Apparently, people who are clarialient routinely smell cigarette smoke, but the smell of big white flowers — gardenias, tuberose, and lilies — is more common. (I'm thinking that Etat Libre Jasmin et Cigarette must drive psychics wild.) I don't know what I think about all this seventh sense business, but I firmly believe in the ability of smell to bring back the dead —or at least the lost — in full form. This is part of the power of scent.
I smelled my grandfather in his shirts after he died (my father sent me some of his most -loved shirts, those with the worn collars and cuffs), and I could see him making breakfast before my grandmother rose. I could smell an old boyfriend, turpentine and dirty laundry, in the creases of a book he gave me, and I had to put the book away for a while. My cat, Bingo, died a few weeks ago, and the smell of him, sweet and clean on my blankets, brought him more freshly to my mind than any photograph could.
All of this is to say that scent is wickedly powerful in its ability to evoke memory and emotion. My brain may well have been misfiring when it registered cigarette smoke. I don't know. I do know that by the way we smell, we leave a powerfully evocative trail.
Note: the lovely "Blue Smoke" image is via Cheekybikerboy at flickr, and is copyrighted at Creative Commons. Click here for his how-to instructions (and note that it shows incense smoke, not cigarette smoke) and here for his "Fun With Smoke" photo set.
Only two days ago, I woke up at 3am to the scent of eggs being fried. There's something about that time of the night, don't you think?
Gorgeous Blue Smoke image, Angela, and a beautiful piece to read and ruminate about! If I put my mind to it, I can “think” all sorts of memories of scents — can really smell them with my nostrils. Am looking forward to my first spontaneous clairalience experience! Hope it's something nicer than cigarette smoke — Tabac Blond from a favourite aunt would be lovely.
Eggs! No bacon?
It is a strange time of night. Maybe sleep dislodges smell memories and crams them into dreams.
Sorry to hear about Bingo! Hope for both of you that he had a peaceful passing…
If you have an aunt who wear Tabac Blond you have a leg up on most perfume lovers!
wow, so poignant. im sad now. i don't believe in that stuff, as a rule, but you paint a very vivid picture, and i can't help but relate just a little.
btw, supposedly people smell phantom smells when they're about to have a stroke. im not at all saying thats the case with you, but it's an interesting piece of science.
E, thank you. It was fast and reasonably painless, fortunately. I do miss the little guy.
That is really interesting, the bit about smelling things and strokes. I suppose if a person can have visual hallucinations, why not olfactory ones?
it wasn't cigerette smoke but I've woken twice to the overwhelming scent of White Shoulders. My mother wore that and passed away 6 years ago. I don't wear it or even own a bottle so I must be smelling her in my sleep. I find it rather comforting that mom visits sometimes, certainly not spooky.
Most commonly burning toast or citrus.
Smell is most closely related to memory. It's so interesting that we expect animals to relate to smell, but are baffled when we can. I'm living across the country from my husband (thank you, collapsing housing market), and every week send a T-shirt so the cats will remember me. He send me another one back. The cats all sleep on the T-shirt (at least that's what he says, but he also noticed a new perfume. . .)
Not to be alarming, but the smell of smouldering cigars and burning plastic is often the early sign of an immenent stroke.
Interesting! They're such different smells, too.
That does sound comforting. Funny how those smells so rarely come during the day.
Thank you for sharing this with us Angela.. very interesting.
Maybe your great uncle did visit you and you perceived him with your sense of smell.
When I am extremely tired my nose seems to be on high alert and I smell everything much sharper, stronger to the point that some scents that normally are fine with me, become almost unbearable, like the smell of toasted bread..especially toasted bread.
You guys are freaking me out! I'm young and healthy and probably not the most likely candidate for a stroke. And it was cigarettes, not cigars! And no burning plastic, thankfully.
I hope you sell your house so that you and your husband are able to cohabit soon.
Now, that's interesting, too, that when you're tired you smell more keenly.
As for Bruce, who knows? It makes a nice story, and that's enough for me.
Hi, Angela–
Just wanted to say sorry to hear about your kitty!! Loved your post today. There's a scent that comes up in the most random places– the elevator, the grocery store– that reminds me of the shampoo I used as a teenager. I get a whiff of it… and then it's gone. I can't place it. Nor can I remember the darn brand of shampoo. Salon Selectives? Pantene? Hmm. It always stops me in my tracks, though, and transports me back to junior high!
No, no, no, did NOT mean to freak you out. The mind and brain and spirit are closely connected. This wasn't meant to scare you, so sorry! Years ago, my mom told me she smelled burning plastic unexpectedly and more than once, I had her checked out. . . and I learned about the odd smell connection from a neurologist.
Here's a better story: I woke up at 6 a.m. last week and smelled Thai coconut milk and chicken soup. My husband is a chef, so I called him (it was 9 am in the kitchen) and sure enough. . .he was cooking it. Didn't go with it first, because I didn't want to start a “can you top this?” thing. Musta been the moon over all of us.
That's really a great image. I love lighting incense and watching the smoke swirl upward.
This was a nice piece. Not sure how I feel about psychic “clairalience”, but totally agree with you regarding scent's ability to evoke memory and emotion. What I find interesting is how, often, people's homes have a smell that is very unique to them, and one that you notice as soon as you walk through their door. As evocative as scent is, I must say that I don't really have any vivid memories of detecting scent in my dreams the way I sometimes do with visual color.
I know I've said it before (and will certainly say it again), but scent is so powerfully evocative! Weird, too, that it's the odor of toiletries that follows you around….
Weird! I love these stories, though. Maybe people like us who spend a lot of time paying attention to scent are more likely to have scent connections with people–especially a husband.
I usually don't notice the smell of my own house unless I've been away for a few days. Part of the smell is me, I'm sure, and part is the smell of old wood beams and plaster. And pets. And maybe something from the garden.
Great post! I have dreamed perfumes and smells before and I'm fascinated with the little wires in our heads that sometimes go a-wanderin' at night. And I have also had the experience of suddenly smelling things that aren't there – I'm open to the idea that these smells could be from another realm of perception. Thanks for the post!
I have read that 3 am is the time of day most open to the spirits crossing the “portal”— For a long time I was waking up at 3am on the dot– and was flipping thru a “New Age” magazine and read an article about psychic phenomenon which mentioned the 3 am piece
Lovely and intriguing as your post is, it made me really sad. So sorry for your loss, Angie! Will drop back later to say something smart on the topic.
Angela, I'm so sorry about Bingo- pets really are members of the family, and it's always rough to lose family.
I don't think I smell psychically, but I do smell very specific things while I'm dreaming. ACTUALLY, I take that back, I sometimes smell this very strong metallic steel that is somehow connected to the house I lived in as a baby. That smell obviously doesn't arise from thin air in various locations- but do you think that's a form of clairalience?
I know I can smell in dreams, because once I clearly remember smelling Villoresi Yerbamate (not a scent likely to be confused with anything else!). But, like you, I'm always open to a good story.
Thank you, D. That's so nice. I still have another cat and a dog to give me other-species company. In a way, loss enriches what's left.
Sheet metal. Well, why shouldn't it be clairalience? Maybe someone you grew up with in that house is visiting you? Or–maybe the ol' brain is up to its olfactory hallucinations.
Now I'm going to be creeped out by waking up in the middle of the night and end up checking to see if it's 3 am. (Then again, the scare of imagining spirits zipping in and out of portals is kind of thrilling!)
I was scared to death actually-but luckily either my dead loved ones know I would have a heart attack and they haven't appeared because they still love me- or I am too “dense” to be picking up on their presence— but in any case, I still don't like to see the flashing 3:00 on my clock..
Angela, so sorry for your loss. And thanks for an evocative article.
Understandable!
Thank you.
Re: the smell of people's houses – so true! Each house/apartment to me smells unique, although sometimes they are similar and that often puts me offtrack – like, I've never been here before, how come it smells familiar?:)
Ooh, creepy! Just kidding, very interesting post!
I can't recall any 'otherwordly' instances with my sense of smell, but yours sound very intriguing:) I do agree that some smells are very strongly associated with certain people or places, and when you smell a certain scent, the brain instantly makes the association. Ah well, the brain is such a mystery in general, it's hardly surprising how it plays with our senses.
That was a great post! So sorry about your cat – that is always heartbreaking.
I was stopped in the stride by a strong smell of trains twice on my way to work today – that peculiar, ozonic smell that electric trains exude. No idea where it came from, first time was just outside my door and the second time in the middle of a busy street with no railway nearby. I love trains and I really enjoy that smell, so I was pleased by it… funny, though!
I think some people just have a similar body smell that inhabits their living spaces. I can usually smell a vegan, for instance, from a meat eater.
The brain truly is fascinating. I always love reading Olivers Sacks' work for that reason. I swear smell has a pipeline straight to memory.
That is funny! I'd love to make a story about the smell: maybe it presaged this evening when you'll meet the love of your life stepping off the metro; or maybe it was a slice through to a past life where you were a porter; or maybe you're great-great aunt was the famous Polly who was tied to the railroad tracks and saved by a Canadian Mountie!
Beautiful article. Scent really is an incredible memory jogger.
On the olfactory hallucinations they're quite common in depression too. I've known a few people with dementia to have them also though it's not one of the more common dementia hallucinations. It can really emphasise the importance of smell in memory, as they can be pretty full on the scent hallucinations (which has both positives and negatives).
Sorry to read about your cat.
Just more proof at how mysterious the brain is.!
Another psychic smeller hear. I've had “olfactory hallucinations” all my life-mostly the burning rubber kind, some sweet spice.
I hadn't heard of the connection to stroke, but these scent visitors are well-documented to be associated with migraine and temporal lobe epilepsy-both of which run in my family.
On a less analytic note, my late father always had a strong, pleasant sweet cinnamon smell-present til his death. He never wore fragrance. After his death, the smell came to visit me whenever presented with a difficult task-filling out insurance and tax forms related to passing, for example. And now, I sometimes wake to his smell. I don't know whence the scent originates-but am always happy for its presense.
For me every event has a song and a smell attached.
Sometimes when I return from holiday I like to keep a bit of the luggage untouched so it retains the “smell” of the place.
And there's no better way that starting a relationship “afresh” than getting a new fragrance!
I've never smelled the presence of departed relatives but once, after a 17-day water fast, I could smell EVERYTHING around, down to the ingredients of my colleague's sandwich
Angela, this is a lovely piece, as always.
I'm so sorry about Bingo's death; I've lost 2 cats in the past 7 years, while my parents have lost all 3 of theirs. It's never easy – even when, as in our case, there's a dog + 3 other cats to keep your attention!
On another note – have you read the fascinating book, “Sex Sleep Eat Drink Dream: A Day in the Life of Your Body”, by Jennifer Ackerman? In it, she asserts that one cannot be awoken *by* a smell but, rather, that one wakes *and then* smells something. Just thought I'd mention it.
Interesting! Whether it's the tricky aspects of memory or actually your father coming to comfort you, I like the story a lot.
A smell AND a song! Wow, your life must be a regular musical! What is the song for Now Smell This? And you're pretty amazing for sticking to that long a water fast.
I know what you mean about perfume and a new relationship. It's nice, too, to buy a new perfume on vacation, for the same reason.
No, I haven't read that book, but it sounds like a good read. So, we wouldn't be woken up by smoke from a burning house? That's alarming.
Angela, I am so sorry to hear about Bingo. I know how difficult it is to lose a beloved pet.
But his scent lingers on, and I think that is lovely. I can still smell my grandparents' home, like chocolate covered orange creams. I can still smell the smoke and soap of my gramps, and my gram's Diorissimo, her favorite fragrance.
Tigress was very popular when I was little, and every once in a while, I can conjure up its “exotic” smell.
Thank you for this great post, and I apologize for being so late in replying!
Hugs!
My condolences on the loss of your kitty cat. I hope that your heavy heart will soon be lifted, perhaps by a new perfume that you'll love.
Sometimes while awake I'll experience a fragrance that is not of real origin but of my mind, just like I can hear a symphony that I've never heard before in my mind. Hard to understand where all this comes from. Are we living double lives in different planes of existence and they are somehow overlapping?
I once wrote an on-line perfume exam and one of the questions was, Can we smell while we sleep? I said we cannot and this was wrong. However, I later read in the course notes that we couldn't AND could so that blew the whole credibility of whoever created the exam. I agree with Ackerman. I think we have to be awake to be cognisent of smells.
Thank you, R. Diorissimo is a wonderful way to remember someone, and of course Tigress isn't so bad either!
Do you ever wonder what smells you'll be remember for?
Sure, but what about ghost smells (which may not exist in real life anyway?) That makes me think–I was alone when I smelled the cigarette smoke, but I wonder if anyone else would have been able to smell it, too?
LOL! I wear so many different fragrances, Angela, I figure my kids will be too overwhelmed to want to remember me in scent!
I hear you!
(1) Touch, (2) Taste, (3) Sight, (4) Hearing, (5) Smell. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm thinking the sixth sense must be seeing dead people, like in that Bruce Willis movie, so the seventh is smelling them. As long as we don't get to touching them, really, I'm OK with this.
You're right, damn it. Despite advanced degrees, it seems the girl can't count. (Although a quick googling reveals a lot of contenders for a seventh sense. “Proprioception” anyone?)
I think I've mentioned this once before in these blogs, but my first memory of any sort is a scent memory. We spent the summer of my first year living with my grandmother and she always wore an apron. In the apron's pocket was a hanky she scented with a violet fragrance (name unknown). I was learning to walk that summer and would pull myself upright by grabbing onto that apron, and when I'd get the deed accomplished, my face would be against the pocket with the hanky in it. To this day the scent of violets calms me and makes me feel safe and secure….and takes me right back to that long ago summer.
i've forgotten the source of the quote, but it was from Albert Payson Terhune, the author of “Lad, a Dog” and other works about animals. He once said something along the lines of “If I'm not greeted at heaven's door by all of the pets who have gone before me, it will be no heaven at all”. Whenever I lose a pet, it always comforts me to think that he or she is being welcomed at heaven's door by all of my furry babies who have gone before. And that the entire lot of them will be waitng for me when my time comes. I hope it comforts you to think about your lost Bingo in the same vein.
Violets in themselves are so calm and sweet, and then being able to associate them with your grandmother who was helping you to walk–wonderful.
Thank you for the quote about losing a pet. I agree wholeheartedly. One of my friends gave me a card that showed the gates to heaven sitting on clouds. But these gates had a cat door.
Angela,
I love, love, love this post! Personally I do believe in otherworldly phenomena such as spirits–even animal spirits. I think anything is possible. Either way, it's a beautiful, thought-provoking story! I have many smell memories –especially related to a beloved uncle that passed away when I was 8. I can conjure up how he smelled, how his house and his basement smelled, even how the air smelled at his funeral.
I'm so sorry about your cat Bingo. I'm glad you still have something with his smell on it. I love the smell of my dog and cat. To me it's just heaven to bury my nose in their fur. I even hate to give my dog a bath because it “erases” his own sweet personal smell! But somehow in about a day or so it comes back. His natural smell kind of reminds me of the honey dry-down of Amoureuse. Strange!
I am able to conjure up a smell at will. For some reason it's easier for me to do that than to conjure up an image of something.
Something very odd I've noticed lately: occasionally I ravenously crave the smell of gasoline. Agh, the brain and the senses are complex things!
Anyway, sorry I've rambled on so much! Your post just moved me.
Molly 🙂
I'm so glad you liked the post!
I've always loved the smell of gasoline. I have an aunt who loves the smell of crude oil. She used to carry in her purse a hanky dipped in oil, which she kept in a plastic bag. Maybe I should introduce her to Dzing, come to think of it.
Ooooh Dzing has a gasoline note? I've never smelled it. Perhaps I shall get myself a sample…
That is so interesting that your aunt kept a hanky dipped in oil!
The sense of smell is so fascinating, isn't it?
Well, it's probably more like motor oil (and caramel and musk), but it's definitely worth trying. Yes, smell is definitely fascinating!
Eerie post! Thanks!
It's called “the witching hour” (midnight till 3am)
I deduce you're not a metal fan or Annce Rice or you'd know.
But you might also re-leaf Mary Shelley' s”Frankenstein” and Washington Irving's stories.
😉
Now that you mention it, maybe I should have waited until Halloween for this post!
It does have a slight touch of Halloween, true 😉
Great memories in any season, though.
I've heard a lot about this and I'm so pleased to read about it in this article. I'm sure that when I'm gone, people will say they can sense my presence by the perfumed smells they will experience.
Great Article. Glad so many others appreciated it as well.!
I really don't know anything about clairalience, but it sounded intriguing, and it is strange to smell phantom odors. I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Angela –
I had just such an experience yesterday, though secondhand. My brother died on Easter Sunday and my sister, who was extremely close to him, is awash in grief. We were at a shop yesterday and were smelling candles….I picked one up called Salt Air and felt compelled to give it to her – she took one sniff, said “it smells like ___” and burst into tears – but they were tears of recognition! I couldn't smell it but was glad it brought him back into the present.
Ten years after my mother died I followed a woman into a store, like a stalker, because she wore the same face-powder as my mother..and the smell was so comforting!
Smell is a shockin' powerful thing, isn't it?
“Shockin' powerful” is the perfect way to describe it!
I'm so sorry to hear about your brother, and I hope your grief does what it needs to do for you and your sister–but as quickly as possible.
Now that would be the proof of the pudding! If another person present with you could smell it, it could mean the scent was generated in the real world or if the other person could not sense it, then the scent was just in your mind, that is, the poltergiest was perceptible only to you.
My thoughts exactly.
Yes, it could make a pretty good story, I imagine.
I'd love to have a Comme des Garcons fragrance based on that smell, come to think of it… 😀
They'd be the perfect perfume house for it.
Haha, perhaps. To clarify that bit about me smelling things when I'm dreaming, I do often smell that steely scent when I'm dreaming too. But it could be anywhere… on the wind, in a friend's kitchen, in my building's elevator. Bizarre.
Strange!