The Joys of Nasal Irrigation
It’s astoundingly simple to convince oneself that one’s bodily crevices are merely homes for filth and decay, that one’s blood is laced with poison or one’s sweat is made of weakness. This is a cross-cultural habit; last night I postulated that body-hate is in fact a basic human instinct, and then I turned that instinct on my nose.
Let me tell you, pore paranoia strips have nothing on the ancient yogic practice of jala neti – especially not when you’ve got a cold. Neti, for those of you too lazy to click the link, is the practice of pouring warm saline solution through one nostril and out the other, thereby flushing out loads and loads of watery snot clumps! Even on a good day, there is way more snot in my sinuses than there is mysterious fatty goo in my nose pores, and last night I nearly ran out of handkerchief. Yogic wisdom 1, Bioré 0.
The creepiness doesn’t particularly diminish with time, but it sure works better and faster than commercial decongestants. And it only feels a little bit like drowning, hoorah!