She smudged the room with a burning, smoking smudger thing.
A bad juju might leave the premises.
And what better game to play?
It’s no better or worse than bowing to Instagram influencers
chasing dollars,
or striking yoga poses.
At least there’s a worthy goal with the smoke – to chase some icky feelings from a room before starting communication, meditation, sex or whatever.

It’s a small pause with an anchoring visual and smell – a pause that says, “I intend something.”
Simple as that.

Plenty of other things are more kooky.
Pretending to will a pro sports team to wins with a lucky shirt.
Battling snails in a garden with poison pellets as if you could control a patch of nature.
Praying to a preacher-flavored god so something as weird as love could come to a specie content with simpler things, like personal aggrandizement.
The game of smudge is good, but a game like any other.