Everyday Magic: Smokeless Smudge
I live with a stylish, very particular man of unrivaled and distinguished tastes. The overall condo and his room reverberate with swank. He possesses more shoes and fancy accessories than I could ever hope to amass as a fashionable woman. His cultural amalgamation of foodie, literary and cinematic knowledge is something I have learned to trust without question. He even manages to be a straight man perfectly comfortable with his feminine side, with the petite 8-lb. tabby cat, luscious pink shirt and floral temporary tattoo to prove it.
In other words, this roommate seems as near to perfect for me in too many ways to name. Then, one day I tried to do some innocent sage smudging in my room. He made it clear that burning sage smoke was not on the list of “do’s” in our little shared abode. I deduced that the somewhat messy sage smoke simply didn’t have the panache level for my refined roommate’s predilections. He gracefully offered up clean burning Japanese Sandalwood incense as an alternative. In my world, sandalwood is almost on par with an intoxicating aphrodisiac, so I buried my sage smudging disappointment and agreed to only burn the Japanese varietal. (I would have to tackle the, ahem, aphrodisiac side effects of sandalwood on my own terms). I knew he was trying to kindle a savvy compromise, after all.
But how would I smudge and clear my room’s energy? I felt like I couldn’t even move forward to dabble with anything I was opening myself up to without a smudged space as a starting point. I felt like a beginning oil painter with no blank stretched canvas awaiting my hand and brush.
That’s when I discovered Salt and Sage’s Smokeless Smudge spray. It clears your space in clean, refreshing spritzes. Using it makes me feel like I’m dancing in waterfall mist and pixie dust elixir—all while cleansing, purifying and banishing negative energy with one neat little bottle. As its clever bonus, the spray safeguards me from irritating the roommate’s delicate olfactory palate and I avoid awakening the shrill, disastrous cries of the condo Smoke Alarm Gods. The roommate, and the neighbors should thank me and add this accessory to their list of must-haves.
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