Monday, March 4, 2013

in a cinnamon haze of well being

Cold, clear morning; moonshine. A night of deep sleep. Earlier in the week, not so. Restless, sleepless, I pulled a notebook from the chest of journals and began to read. The summer of 2007. Can’t put it down. What happens next? Because I’m thinking what happens next in the summer of 2007 is going to happen next in the spring of 2013. Our lives are so loopy, emotions and reactions constantly recycling. If you think you haven’t felt this way before, I bet you have. If you think you’ll never feel this way again, I bet you do. But what I find most interesting is that we forget this; we forget that life repeats itself. I will forget it until I go back and read my own words, reminding myself that I’ve felt this way and reacted this way and written about it this way before. And then … recovered and moved on. And then … like the ending to The Slithery Dee, my favorite bit by the Smothers Brothers: crogkeracrogkerargggggg …

I searched the Internet yesterday for information on spirulina, specifically if it could be burned (someone had given me this idea of adding spirulina to the candles for green color), and all I learned was that spirulina burns fat. Then, I realized I did not know the consequences of burning cinnamon—could it possibly be toxic? I've been adding cinnamon to the candles for a while now, so I investigated and found some great marketing material. From an article by Bea Heller on
Some believe that burning cinnamon in incense will promote high spirituality and aid in healing. Some people also believe it can stimulate the passions of a male.
And from
Magical Uses: Burned in incense, cinnamon will promote high spirituality and psychic ability. It is also used to stimulate the passions of the male.
Ah, repetition. Does repetition make it so? There is more good stuff about burning cinnamon in Heller’s article (including how “cinnamon’s scent boosts brain function”) and in an article at

It is just like me to be making a product like cinnamon-infused beeswax candles without realizing what I am doing, without realizing the greatness of it all and the marketing potential. I have been oblivious to this candle’s power. Just think, between the beeswax and the cinnamon you get:
  • negative ions cleaning the air
  • a surge in creativity
  • heightened passion (male passion!)
  • increased spirituality
  • the potential for healing
  • psychic ability
  • a boost in serotonin: you feel good
  • your brain works better
  • your memory improves
  • you are relieved of tension

This is what they say, anyway, and I am blown away. This is one powerful candle, be it in the shape of a little bear, or a moose, or a wolf, or an egg, or a swirly fern ball.

Now, how do I back up these claims, other than to say: I saw it on the Internet. Well, I offer you this. Yesterday I made cinnamon beeswax egg candles, one after the other, all day long, and yesterday I made lip balm, one tube after another, all day long, and by the end of the day I felt pretty damn good. For both, I melted the wax on the wood stove and added the cinnamon at the kitchen table, stirring in the cinnamon powder for the eggs and the cinnamon oil for the lip balm. As I stirred, I gazed out the kitchen window through the dripping icicles marveling at the snow cover, a solid crust, bright in the sun. And the warmer it got, the faster the icicles dripped and the longer they grew, dripping and growing steadily in the bright sun, melting away, growing bigger, melting away, growing bigger ... I was aware of all the contrasts. I was aware of all the lines, all the shapes, all the rhythms, all the incongruities and blessed congruities. I soon went out and took a closer look. I realized icicles are a sign of spring. I realized a crusty snow cover is a sign of spring. I realized an increase in rodent activity is a sign of spring. I realized Elliott going outside is a sign of spring. I realized making lip balm is a sign of spring because I only make lip balm on the wood stove and I always procrastinate. I realized making three dozen cinnamon beeswax eggs is a sign of spring because they are being made for Easter. And I realized that chickadees in barren, leafless trees is a sign of spring.

Now, let’s go back to our list. After spending a day with cinnamon, did I experience all those good things that I read about on the Internet? You bet. Well, mostly. We’ll skip over that one about male passion, and I’m not so sure about the psychic ability, but I did feel damn good. The evidence, I know, is purely anecdotal, just my story, but my story, after all, is all I got.

Not familiar with The Slithery Dee? Enjoy.

Read last week’s post, or listen to it.

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