I smudge when I’m changing. I change shape, I change my mind, I change my hair color from blond to dark brown, border-line black.
When I smudge, I acknowledge growth. Or change. I honor the past. Thank it. In through the nose… exhale.
Come sit in the smudge. Watch the sunlight catch in a swirl. And disappear. Like the past, easing it goodbye gently. Realizing that some goodbyes can also mean I love you.
And with intention and ritual, clear your space.