Driving nearly twenty miles up the coast to buy the smudge stick had added onto her already crowded day,
but when she took it out of her bag it felt like a positive action.
but when she took it out of her bag it felt like a positive action.
She’d burn the sage, cleanse her house. If she felt her house was cleansed, it was cleansed.
Whiskey Beach
_____________
By Paloma Cervantes (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0
(http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
I can’t pinpoint when sage smudging first piqued my interest. It might have been the time I spotted sage bundles in Jenni Kayne’s chic Southampton, New York, store. Maybe it was when my friend—who works for a renowned high-end interior designer—told me they sage smudged their clients’ homes after each install. Or maybe it was the time I read about it in Vogue. If all these hip and fabulous people were doing it, why wasn’t I in with the It crowd? One thing’s for sure: Over the last year or so, sage smudging has transitioned from an alternative practice into a mainstream ritual beloved by the fashion crowds, interior designers, and celebrities alike.
_____________
But for now she did her best to clear her mind, to think only clean, positive thoughts as she lit the sage, held it over an abalone shell for safety and blew out the flame to encourage the smoke. Her home, she thought. The floors, the ceilings, the corners belonged to her.
The process, walking from room to room with the scent of white sage and lavender, calmed her, as did reminding herself what she’d made there, for herself, for others.
Faith, she thought, hope, and the symbols of them forged strength.
Whiskey Beach