The Language of Scent: Are We Speaking the Same Sensory Language?

We breathe in, we experience, we react. But can we describe what we smell?

Scent isn’t passive. It shapes mood, memory, and how we move through space. And yet, when asked to put a scent into words, we hesitate. We reach for comparisons, metaphors, borrowed references.

Ludwig Wittgenstein, the 20th-century philosopher, argued that language isn’t about fixed meanings—it’s about how we use words in context. He called them language games.

A simple phrase like “this smells fresh”—to a perfumer, means crisp citrus top notes. To a traveler, it’s mountain air. To a child, it’s the scent of clean laundry tumbling in the dryer.

Scent works the same way. It isn’t absolute. It’s personal, contextual, alive.

At Symbiosis Living, we see scent as more than just fragrance—it’s a sensory dialogue, shaping the way you connect to your space.

So, the question isn’t just What do you smell? It’s What does scent mean to you?

Ever tried to explain a smell and ended up saying, It’s kind of like… you know… that thing…?

That’s not a failure of vocabulary—it’s a biological limitation.  Unlike sight or sound, scent bypasses the brain’s language-processing center and goes straight to the limbic system—the part that controls emotion and memory. (Herz, 2007)

That’s why scent is the fastest way to trigger nostalgia (a childhood kitchen, a summer romance, your grandfather’s library). It’s also why we struggle to describe it in precise terms. We feel scent before we can name it.

This is why perfume descriptions often sound like poetry:
Golden afternoon light on aged wood
The first inhale of autumn air, still warm from yesterday’s sun
The echo of a spice market at dusk

And yet, we all understand it.

We know the difference between a home that smells inviting and one that feels sterile. We feel when a space is grounding, uplifting, or stagnant—without ever needing to name the molecules in the air.

Scent is a language we all speak. We just haven’t been taught how to translate it.

Wittgenstein asked: Can there be a private language?

If no one else understands the words you use, do they still hold meaning?

Scent poses the same question. Some smells feel intensely personal—impossible to describe, impossible to share. Yet the moment we try, the moment we say, It smells like my grandmother’s hands after baking bread, we invite someone else into our experience.

Scent is both intimate and shared.  A scent only becomes part of our story when we connect it to a moment, a place, a person.

So, what does your home smell like to you?

If scent is a language, then your home is the sentence you write with it.

Retail brands have already mastered this. Luxury hotels, boutiques, and even fitness studios use scent to craft an experience before you even realize it’s happening. Science confirms that scent influences memory and mood more than any other sense.  But the real question isn’t how brands use scent—it’s how you do.

Try This:

• Think of a moment when you felt completely at ease. What did the air smell like?
• Now think about your space. Does it reflect that same feeling?
• If not, what scent would bring it closer?

Scent isn’t just an accessory. It’s a presence, a story, an invitation.

At Symbiosis Living, we’re not here to tell you what scent to use. We’re here to help you ask better questions.

• What does your home feel like—through scent?
• What is your space telling you?
• What story do you want it to tell?

Scent, like language, isn’t something you just receive—it’s something you craft, experience, and share.

So, what will you create?