August 19, 2008
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Smudging
This is a repost of a piece I wrote in response to readers’ questions on SuSu, March 31, 2003. Several readers asked about the procedure and significance of smudging.
It is a Native American ritual that has made its way into New Age and NeoPagan practice. Indians considered (and some still do consider) smoke to be a way to send messages to the Great Spirit. Scented smoke was (still is in some places) considered to have an influence on lesser spirits. “Good” scents, the pleasant ones such as sweet grass, are said to attract beneficent spirits. Such rationales are not unique to the Americas. The use, in Europe, Africa and Asia, of incense in religious ritual predates Christianity.
One would think (at least this one here would so think) that if good smells bring good spirits, bad smells would bring bad spirits. That’s not the way it is believed to be in those traditions. The pungent smells of sage and cedar are believed to REPEL evil spirits. I’ll take this as evidence that I’m not an evil spirit, because I love the scents of smudge, which usually mingle both the pungent and the sweet. For me now, the scents evoke memories of medicine wheel gatherings, sweat lodge ceremonies, meditation groups, and the many sacred and communal events I’ve attended where smudge has been used.
As I wrote yesterday, I don’t do ritual, usually. I prefer my communion with spirit to be spontaneous, conscious, and sincere. For me, ritual does not provide that. I would not, for example, recite a canned prayer. My contact with Spirit comes from my heart, mind and soul, not from memory. And yet, there are some rituals I perform when I want to set a particular mood for my work.
I was taught techniques for “grounding and centering”, for adjusting my mental focus, for relaxation… even the painswitch can loosely be termed a ritual because it is a learned technique repeated by rote. I use those techniques, things which other people might consider a sacred ritual or a magickal rite, in the same way that I follow recipes in cooking or the procedures in computer troubleshooting, etc.
This morning, Doug was reading yesterday’s blog and the comments. He asked what smudging does, how it’s supposed to work. I told him the folklore, and then said, “It’s superstitious rigamarole.” That’s how I see it. Then Greyfox spoke up and said it’s the power of the placebo. I’ll buy that, too.
However, when something happens such as having that “Authority of Ritual” card flip face-up while I’m shuffling a brand new deck, I pay attention. Most of my professional colleagues have elaborate rituals they follow each time they remove the silk wrap from their Tarot cards. My various decks are kept in everything from leather pouches to the cardboard boxes they came in from the factory.
Some readers never allow others to touch their cards, and keep them locked away in a hidden place. I let my clients in my booths at fairs shuffle the cards. Beliefs differ, traditions conflict, and my way of dealing with the conflict long ago was to eliminate the rituals and use common sense in the care of my cards.
But I also work with crystals, and I do psychometry. I have learned by experience that “vibes” or psychic impressions can pass from person to person through the medium of objects. Crystalline or metal objects pick up and store these impressions better than organic matter, but few Tarot readers would use a new deck of cards without some sort of purifying ritual. So, I smudged my new deck. Might not help, but it can’t hurt, right?
Enjoying the evocative scent, I went on and had some fun with it. I tuned into Spirit and made the ritual REAL for me. Any spiritual power in ritual is in the INTENT, the way we focus our attention. After smudging myself and my cards, I stood and waited for the next impulse. My dog Koji came over, so I smudged him. I heard a snore from Doug, and walked over and did a purification ritual for my beloved son. It seemed only fitting to turn and waft the scented smoke at the war news on TV. Then I felt an impulse to step outside and do the usual winds-earth-and-sky gestures.
I’ve watched those movements performed by Native elders in buckskin, beads and feathers, and by various Pagan or New Age practitioners, skyclad or in flowing robes. I’ve grown and gathered the herbs and tied bundles of them into sticks for smudging. To me, none of that is any more sacred than the rest. The sacred herbs grow from the sacred earth and we light them with sacred fire. We draw in the sacred scents with our sacred breath. All reality is sacred, to me.
Comments (3)
Good stuff…
I’ve always found it fascinating how the urge to do will give different “instructions” in different situations. Like with tarot cards… I have one deck that I don’t let anyone else touch, and that I keep in a pretty little pouch. Then there’s another deck that I leave in the original box and let anyone handle. Both have been very useful to me over the years, but they’ve “told me” they’re for different purposes or people. If someone asks for a reading (which isn’t often b/c I don’t spread around that I do them) I do a gut-check to see which deck to use for them. It’s weird, but it works!
And now I feel the urge to smudge. Dang it, where did I put that stuff… lol
AFAIC, purification rituals are there for your mind. They use something powerful like scent to ‘mark’ the item or the space or the time, so you’ll remember its importance with greater ease later, and be more influenced by it.
I also think some people confuse the ‘mark’ with the experience.
@HomerTheBrave - I think, in general, the “mark” is confused with what it’s marking, as the map is often confused with the territory. Our culture tends often to try and eat the menu.