LIVING WITH GHOSTS
Moving into my new home requires a good smudging even though the house bursts with the best spirit ever. I start at my front door, give thanks to the four directions as I turn to face each one. The spirit above and the spirit below are added to those thanks for my blessings. Especially for being right here where I am meant to be for my best living right now.
As soon as I step inside (I don’t even look to see if the neighbors are watching. Perhaps I’m unknowingly teaching them something.) I light the sage sitting in my large conch shell, with a wooden match. It’s important to use a wooden match. As the smoke rises, I wave it outward with the eagle feather that I found in the forest one day. Walking clock-wise, I go from room to room, chasing negative spirits away, if there are any around, and inviting good spirits to come join me, watch over me (and cat Lizzie) to share in my joy of being here. Lizzie follows in my footsteps. She’s done this before, too.
There. Done. The house carries the aroma of burnt sage, a cleansing odor that comforts.
When I was still living in Bordentown, a lady stopped in my bookshop to ask a question. She wanted to buy a particular house in town and wanted to know if it was haunted. I didn’t know of any haunts hanging around the house, yet encouraged her to smudge, anyway. She was new to the concept. . . . I like spreading the word that helps others.
