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  Coconut, Vanilla Bean, & Tiare Hair Gloss

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  On Pain Perfume Oil

  Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.

   

  Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.

   

  And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;

   

  And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.

   

  And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.

   

  Much of your pain is self-chosen.

   

  It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.

   

  Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity: For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen, And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.

  
  Violet water and plum juice with wormwood accord, pungent tagetes, and dry, bitter, wholesome green tea.
  

  The sales from July’s scents from the Prophet series benefits SMASH Street Medic Aid and Supply Hub, who collects and distributes medical supplies through grassroots movements. “Street medics have a proud history of serving communities during protests, disasters, and daily struggles when institutional systems fail. By gathering unused or soon-to-expire basic medical supplies, we create a mutual aid resource for these volunteer medics and community members who lack access to necessities.”

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  On Reason and Passion Perfume Oil

  Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which your reason and your judgment wage war against your passion and your appetite.

   

  Would that I could be the peacemaker in your soul, that I might turn the discord and the rivalry of your elements into oneness and melody.

   

  But how shall I, unless you yourselves be also the peacemakers, nay, the lovers of all your elements?

   

  Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul.

   

  If either your sails or your rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas. For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction.

   

  Therefore let your soul exalt your reason to the height of passion, that it may sing;

   

  And let it direct your passion with reason, that your passion may live through its own daily resurrection, and like the phoenix rise above its own ashes.

  
  I would have you consider your judgment and your appetite even as you would two loved guests in your house.

   

  Surely you would not honour one guest above the other; for he who is more mindful of one loses the love and the faith of both

   

  Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows—then let your heart say in silence, “God rests in reason.”

   

  And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky,—then let your heart say in awe, “God moves in passion.”

   

  And since you are a breath in God’s sphere, and a leaf in God’s forest, you too should rest in reason and move in passion.

  
  Rest in reason and move in passion: smoked rose attar, honeyed saffron, red sandalwood, red tea, clove bud, and frankincense.

   

  The sales from July’s scents from the Prophet series benefits SMASH Street Medic Aid and Supply Hub, who collects and distributes medical supplies through grassroots movements. “Street medics have a proud history of serving communities during protests, disasters, and daily struggles when institutional systems fail. By gathering unused or soon-to-expire basic medical supplies, we create a mutual aid resource for these volunteer medics and community members who lack access to necessities.”

  Add to cart
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  Whipatchouli Perfume Oil

  A fortunate accident wherein a copious glob of aged patchouli was erroneously en’globbened into the mother bottle of Whip.

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