How an Energy Signature Is Like a Scent
Many years ago, I had a boyfriend who wore Polo cologne. I think it’s still around but certainly not as trendy or sexy as it was in those days, but maybe that’s mainly because he was very trendy and sexy back then. In fact, I reunited with him not long ago (briefly) and he no longer wears Polo. He’s changed, and in so many ways. But to me, that’s still his scent. Always has been. And whether he wears it anymore, I still think of him immediately when I smell it.
Over the years since we first met and first parted, I’ve caught a random whiff of Polo while out shopping on Christmas Eve. I’ve stepped into an elevator full of strangers and smelled Polo and found myself looking around in a blind panic. I’ve passed men in raincoats and faces half-hidden by black umbrellas and breathed in air of Polo mixed with raindrops.
And every time, because I remembered his scent, I disconnected from whatever else was going on in my world and looked for him anywhere around me, and never found him. But I looked because my body—and heart—remembered his scent.
The same, I’ve discovered, is true of an energy signature. Even someone I’ve cut empathic bonds with ritually will emit a strong energy signature that I can attune to involuntarily.
This, I learned when I ran into another man with whom I’d had a particularly close emotional relationship, for both of us, for several years. It did not end well.
For the entire time we were together, I knew his energy signature—his “emotional scent,” if you will. I knew if he was within a mile of me. I knew if he was in my office building. I could feel his presence. I knew if he was happy, upset, angry, sad, longing…even when he was hiding something. We were that bonded.
A year before I knew through witnesses that he was romantically involved with another woman, I was out walking one night in a neighborhood that I usually didn’t visit, but it was very late at night and I’d decided to stick to better lighting than on my usual path. I still recall the passage from a Game of Thrones audiobook that I was listening to when I passed an unfamiliar house and got body-slammed by his energy. A wave of it coming from this house. Definitely his energy. After I found out he was seeing someone else and who it was, I discovered that this house belonged to her and he’d been there a few times.
Fast-forward many months after I’d cut the cords between us and gotten on with living my life without him in constant contact with me. I’d dated other men. I’d given up on relationships in favor of socializing. I’d gotten so busy with areas of my life that didn’t include him any more. And then I ran into him, out of the blue.
Not that I hadn’t seen him. I was forever turning a corner and ducking out of the way to avoid running into him with his other girlfriend before they saw me. I learned to alter my lunch schedule to avoid a seeing them so much, though I’d refused to alter many of my daily activities, like my exercise or work schedule. I didn’t want to be reminded, whether of what we’d lost or what I’d thought we had, but mostly that he’d not been the person I’d thought. So I saw him frequently from a distance but never up close and unavoidably. I didn’t feel any strong emotion surrounding him as I always had when we were together. The energy signature I’d know was gone, like a body washed clean of cologne. It helped that I met someone new. I fell in love, which surprised me more than I can say. And I was grateful. Grateful. Grateful that my shattered heart wasn’t completely destroyed and that I could possibly find love again and maybe peace this time.
As an empath who’d cut our bonds, I could rarely feel him. On occasion, yes, but mostly not. In time, especially with my focus on a new man, a job I loved, family and friends I adored, and artistic creations of my own, I actually forgot how his energy felt. I never would have thought it. It was like forgetting how Polo smelled as long as I wasn’t smelling it. I couldn’t even imagine it anymore. There were roses to smell, and spices, cinnamon, vanilla, Dragon’s blood, frankencense. Polo didn’t even come to mind.
Then one morning long, long, long after our breakup, I jumped into my car and plugged in my smart phone to listen to a podcast on the way to a super important meeting with my boss and the General. For some reason, my phone didn’t work and I was running late, so I switched to the radio for company…and heard a song I had never heard on the radio.
It was his song. One he’d quoted to me, from Tool, when we’d first started dating. Something dark and sad and full of warning. One that, in hindsight, was far more telling than I could have imagined
Uh-oh, I thought. Not today. Please not today. I have to stay focused on work.
I had a bad feeling that I was going to be face-to-face with him. Bad enough that I made double damned sure I wouldn’t run into him by altering my post-meeting schedule drastically. I waited a full two hours to go to lunch and celebrate my successful briefing. And that, of course, is when I walked through a door with that uncanny knowing that he would be on the other side of it and neither of us would have anywhere to go but past the other.
It was strange being that close to him again without touching, without the lingering hugs of greeting or parting or a quick ticklish kiss on the side of my neck. I couldn’t look away from him. He couldn’t look at me.
And as we passed each other, a wave of long-forgotten energy launched from his chest and slammed into me. It hit me hard in the heart chakra and high heart chakra, then in my stomach. It caught me off guard, not just for the potency of it but that I’d forgotten the nuances of his energy. And that it hadn’t changed. It was still his energy, his scent. Still the warring emotions I had always felt in his energy, mixed with something else that made him turn his head away. But nothing new. Nothing so changed that I wouldn’t have known his energy signature blindfolded
I didn’t feel it until the instant we passed, and it took a few seconds to analyze the sudden wave of emotions, even though I felt them in the air long after I’d left the vicinity for lunch. The energy lingered for days around me. It was as if I’d passed him and been doused with a bucket of liquid, only to realize a few moments later that it was five gallons of Polo, and it didn’t wash off easily.
That’s the part that surprises me about this experience—how easily I identified his energy signature, that it was just as strong after so much time, that it was possible for me to feel it that strongly through my shields, especially after ritually excising him from my life and empathic net.
It’s easier to change your scent than it is to change your energy.