I met the woman who makes my soap and instantly felt more grateful and grounded

Appreciating a moment of connection in an often disconnected world

I’ve been buying the same soap for years. I have dry, sensitive skin, and I also react to fragrance. My face is particularly susceptible to redness, and I often get eczema around my eyes and on my neck when I feel stress or eat the wrong foods. When I became unwell with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, this reaction became even more pronounced. So I started looking around for a more natural alternative to the highly perfumed, mass produced soaps on offer at my supermarket. I tried many different options. Then one day when I was visiting my local health store I noticed a wooden shelf filled with beautiful looking soaps of different colours and textures. They appeared to be hand made, and they were.

The ingredients included things like olive and coconut oil, bergamot, rose geranium, lavender, poppy seeds and cinnamon. There were naturally scented soaps such as patchouli, red clay and empire rose, as well as a completed unscented option. I chose the fragrance free soap for my face, and patchouli for my body. I was delighted with their creamy texture and how well they lathered. Yet they didn’t dry out or irritate my skin. After showering, they left a beautiful scent in my bathroom. They were extremely well priced and didn’t have any plastic packaging. So I just kept buying them.

When I moved away from Melbourne’s outer east to my current inner city apartment, I had to restock my soap when I working out that way. But this week, with my last bar of soap nearly used up, I wasn’t able to get to my usual place. So I took a chance and went to a health store that was only a few minutes drive away. I was momentarily thrilled to find a display of soap that looked similar to the ones I usually bought. Could they be the same soaps? But then I realised they were out of my favourite scents. Disappointed, I asked the sales staff when they would be back in stock. But before they could answer, I heard someone to my right say, “which ones were you after? I can run to the car and get them for you.” With surprise, I turned to see a friendly face framed by beautiful, natural grey curls. “Do you make these soaps?” I asked her. She nodded and smiled and said, “Yes”. “Oh!”, I responded, wondering if I was meeting the person who had been taking care of my skin all these years. Did she by any chance supply her soaps to my usual health store, I asked. Yes she did. “How lovely! Thank you, thank you so much….I just love your soaps!”

After chatting for a few minutes, I learned that her name was Louise, and that she made her beautiful soaps on a semi rural property not far from Melbourne, and made her delivery rounds to various health stores around the city about every 3 weeks. I told her about my health and my sensitive skin, and that I relied on her soaps. The topic moved on to healing in general, and I mentioned that I had an interest in somatic yoga. I told her that I had always had tension in my body since I was a child. Recently, I had become interested in the relationship between trauma, bodily tension and the nervous system. We discussed how many people of our generation were not taught to pay attention to our emotions, or to look after our nervous systems. She told me that she was in her early sixties. And when I mentioned that I was 55, she said, “You could be my little sister”. It was such a sweet thing to say, and it really struck me how she said it with such kindness.

Realising that I had to leave to get on with my day, I thanked her again and said my goodbyes. As I walked down the street I had such a feeling of warmth and gratitude. Since that meeting I have been reflecting on how rare such moments of connection are in our busy, commercialised world. Most of the products that I buy are made far away, either in an Australian factory, or more likely, overseas. I seldom, if ever, got to meet the people who made them. Yet I consume them every single day. Who bottles the milk that I use in my blueberry pancakes and porridge? Who packages and transports the eggs and the pistachios that I love to snack on. And don’t get me started on my clothes and shoes, which are made even farther away by people who likely live on much less than I do. I do try to buy as ethically as I can. My health sometimes makes it hard to pay attention to that. But I do my best. My coffee and chocolate are sourced from companies that only use fair trade beans. I buy free range and organic as much as possible. I even check the density of the chicken farms for the eggs that I buy. But even with the local Australian suppliers, I hardly know where many of my things come from.

Meeting Louise drew back the barrier between producer and customer that is mostly hidden from me as I select each item from the store shelves. Our brief conversation made me feel a little bit less isolated and more connected all the people who make the foods and goods that I consume. It reignited an interest in, if not buying more locally made products, at least finding out more about the products that I regularly use. The people that provide all these wonderful things to make my life better are out there living their lives, with their own needs, problems, plans and dreams.

Like most of you, I am often too busy dealing with my own problems and crossing tasks off my endless To Do list to think much about such things. So it was lovely to randomly bump into Louise and be reminded to stop and thank those who provide all the wonderful products that make our lives easier and better. And to wonder at their talent, creativity and hard work. We owe them so much!

Lilibet xo