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
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.