We know that our feelings can sometimes drag us around in ways that we would never allow our friends to do. On days when anxiety or tiredness mount or you simply “don’t wanna,” those emotions start seeming disproportionately large because they cover the psyche like an oversized hat or wrap around like a blanket.

I recently heard a mother of a young child with a rare disease describe their experiences, and she talked about how on days when her daughter wasn’t as ready to go for her regular treatments as usual, she would tell her, “Let’s take your fear, and your teddy bear, with us to get your treatment.” Apparently it worked, and I think it’s a nice shift in framing to get back some sense of control in minor stressful situations as well. Let’s take my _____ (impostor syndrome, sleep deprivation, distraction, worry, uncertainty, boredom, apprehension, seasonal allergy discomfort, …), and my perfume (or tchotchke, fidget tool, …) with me into this meeting and get it done. It’s more positive than the tough-love, “Pull yourself together!” approach.

Once I’ve crossed the hurdle, the present moment usually takes over.

Speaking of perfume, I’m still working my way through the Floraïku discovery set that I bought. The latest sample to catch my nose is The Moon and I, featuring mate absolute, matcha tea, and cedar oil. It’s a blast of lovely, sweet tea (with fleeting citrus), which soon shows itself to be diluted in a glass full of ice cubes starting to melt—a summer refreshment. I have a mate leaf extraction and it’s nowhere near as delectable as this rendition. The matcha claim seems a stretch to me, possibly based loosely on some earthier notes that lend the composition some gravity. It never turns woody in any way, though there is a supporting structure to this ephemeral fragrance.

The Moon and I is in the “Secret Teas and Spices” collection, or “ceremony” as the brand calls it. I think “secret” is the operative word, because it doesn’t last for more than a few minutes on my skin or clothing, with the last traces gone in 2 or 3 hours at most. At the end, it leaves a clean, laundry musk scent that I realized was there only because my detergent is fragrance free and the smell wasn’t on other parts of my shirt that hadn’t touched the perfume. At a minimum unit price of USD$5 per mL, I might be willing to shell out for a long-lasting extrait de parfum with quality ingredients, but I certainly won’t for something that I would have to spray 4 times a day to get the same effect as a light eau de toilette. Hélas…