It is on the shelves of boutiques, in films, in someone’s memories of their first love. But I am different. I am much more touched by the smell of incense in an old church and wax dripping from a thin candle on Easter night.

And it is not even about the opposition: Chanel or incense? — as if one choice cancels the other. There are simply such smells that, once inside, remain with you forever. Smells that you do not need to wear on your skin to remember them.

I remember how as a child I went into the cathedral on Christmas Eve. It was cold there, it smelled of damp stone, wood of benches and something special that I could not describe then. Now I know - it was incense. It didn't evaporate, even when you went outside. It stuck to your clothes, to your hair, until the evening. And for some reason, it was at that moment that I felt truly safe. Surprising, right? Some people hide their souls behind locks, but for me, one breath of this aroma was enough to believe that everything would be fine.

With age, my tastes, of course, changed, like everyone else's. I tried perfumes - sometimes expensive, sometimes not so. I was even given that very No. 5. Yes, beautiful, elegant, French. But I didn't feel like myself. It seemed to me as if I was putting on someone else's dress - elegant, expensive, but not mine. Although I am not alien to living luxuriously.

There are women who want to smell of success, travel, elite stores. I am for the smell of warmth. The smell of a wax candle in the silence of a temple, where you are alone with yourself and God. When the whole world seems to be on pause, and you can just be. Without filters. Without makeup. Without the need to please.

I love holidays - not for the tinsel, but for the morning Mass. I love it when the heart starts beating a little faster during "Agnus Dei", when, it would seem, an already grown woman wants to cry not from sadness, but from something indescribably pure.

Sometimes it seems to me that faith smells. Not in the metaphorical sense, but literally. It has a smell. Not everyone likes it, and it is not easy to get used to it. It does not flatter, does not adapt. But it is real.

And I understand that luxury is not always things. There is spiritual luxury. The opportunity to be yourself. To be able to forgive. To pray not "for the sake of it". To believe when it is difficult. To remain soft when the world demands to be firm.

Of course, I can also enjoy beautiful things - who doesn't love soft cashmere or a morning cappuccino in a cozy coffee shop? But still, the most valuable thing I have is my inner candle. The one that was lit for me at the Epiphany and which I try not to put out.

You may not believe it - and that's okay too. Everyone has their own path. But what is yours? Chanel or incense?

Lana Banana