People care so much about physical cleanliness, and so little about the smell of their personhood.

They wash their bodies.

They perfume their skin.

They polish their image.

They clean their clothes.

They organise their homes.

They disinfect their surfaces.

They make sure the visible body does not offend.

But then their character stinks.

Their morals stink.

Their intentions stink.

Their minds stink.

Their emotions stink.

Their energy stinks.

Their treatment of others stinks.

Their avoidance stinks.

Their cowardice stinks.

Their silence stinks.

Their projections stink.

Their souls enter rooms before their bodies do, and somehow they still believe being physically clean means they are clean.

That is the distortion.

A person can smell good and carry spiritual rot.

A person can look polished and be emotionally filthy.

A person can sit in high places with clean shoes, clean shirts, clean hands, and still leave the room smelling like fear, envy, dishonesty, cruelty, self-importance, and God’s disappointment.

And I have met cleaner souls while homeless than I have met in higher places.

That is the truth people do not want to sit with.

Because society has been trained to associate cleanliness with class, with status, with housing, with money, with presentation, with access, with the ability to buy products that make the body acceptable to other bodies. But physical cleanliness is not the same as spiritual hygiene. A shower can wash the skin. It cannot wash a lie. Perfume can cover sweat. It cannot cover a lack of integrity. A suit can make a person look respectable. It cannot make them honourable.

Some people smell funky like the music.

Raw.

Earthy.

Alive.

Human.

Unpolished maybe, but still carrying rhythm, spirit, warmth, sincerity, survival, humour, generosity, and a kind of soul that has not been sterilised out of itself. Funky does not always mean dirty in the way people think. Funky can mean life has a bassline. Funky can mean there is still movement in the person. Funky can mean the body has lived, struggled, danced, carried, sweated, slept outside, eaten what it could, and still managed to keep more humanity than people who had everything cleaned for them.

That is one smell.

Then there is the other.

The one that smells like the tears of God.

That is the smell of people who have washed everything except the part of them that needed washing most. It is the smell of souls who learned presentation but never purification. It is the smell of rooms where everyone looks acceptable, but no one feels safe. It is the smell of polished institutions built from spiritual neglect. It is the smell of people who know how to appear good, but not how to be good. It is the smell of God looking at the human being and wondering how something with so much access to life could become so empty of care.

One smells funky like the music.

The other smells like the tears of God.

That is the double meaning.

Because I am not here to shame poverty, homelessness, sweat, survival, or the body being caught in difficult conditions. I know too much life for that. I have seen too much soul in places society looks down on. I have seen people with little give more honesty than people with plenty. I have seen people without homes carry more warmth than people with houses. I have seen people with visible struggle carry cleaner intentions than people with invisible corruption.

So no, I do not measure cleanliness by soap alone.

I measure it by what your presence leaves behind.

Do people feel safer after being near you?

Do they feel clearer?

Do they feel respected?

Do they feel manipulated?

Do they feel used?

Do they feel small?

Do they feel like they had to shrink for your comfort?

Do they feel like your energy left a stain on them?

That is cleanliness too.

Your mind has a smell.

Your morals have a smell.

Your emotions have a smell.

Your character has a smell.

Your purpose has a smell.

Your avoidance has a smell.

Your truth has a smell.

Your lies have a smell.

And people who know how to read fields can smell what perfume cannot hide.

This is why everything I collect from my own field is not only for me.

Everything that is mine is ours, because we are all one.

That does not mean people get to steal from me, distort me, copy me without understanding, take my energy without honour, or pretend my work arrived from nowhere. It means that when I call my energy back, I am not doing it for selfish possession. I am doing it so the energy can be cleaned, named, organised, and made useful to the whole.

If it came through me, it still belongs to the all in purpose.

But it must return through clarity first.

Because when energy scatters into the collective consciousness, it picks up distortion. It picks up ego. It picks up scarcity. It picks up fear. It picks up misinterpretation. It gets touched by hands that do not know how to hold it. It gets used by minds that do not know what it is for. It gets dirtied by people who want access without responsibility.

So I call it back.

I clean it.

I name it.

I restore its direction.

Then I offer it back to the all in a form that can serve life.

That is the difference between ownership and stewardship.

I am not collecting my energy so I can hoard it.

I am collecting it so it can stop being misused.

I am collecting it so what belongs to the whole can return to the whole without distortion.

I am collecting it because clarity is hygiene.

Truth is hygiene.

Responsibility is hygiene.

Integrity is hygiene.

Purpose is hygiene.

A person can wash their body every day and still be filthy in the field.

A person can have nothing and still carry a clean soul.

That is why the future cannot only be about physical presentation.

It has to be about full cleanliness.

Clean mind.

Clean intent.

Clean responsibility.

Clean relationship to truth.

Clean use of power.

Clean treatment of people.

Clean relationship to the body.

Clean relationship to money.

Clean relationship to consciousness.

Clean relationship to what is yours, what is ours, and what must be returned to the whole with honour.

Because the world does not only stink because people are physically unclean.

The world stinks because too many people have abandoned the hygiene of the soul.

And once we learn to smell that properly, we will stop confusing polish with purity.

We will stop confusing status with cleanliness.

We will stop confusing perfume with peace.

We will stop confusing presentation with goodness.

We will finally understand that the dirtiest thing in the room is not always the body society points at.

Sometimes it is the person who looks cleanest while carrying the most rot.

And sometimes the one who smells funky like the music is the one still close enough to life to remember how God intended rhythm to move through the human soul.