A couple of months ago, Stephanie tweeted the following:
Underneath the hustle of the productivity cult, it seems to me what we’re really aching for is liturgy. Small, sacred things on repeat.
I love that definition of liturgy, and I’ve been pondering it ever since. I especially like the idea of liturgy as daily rhythm: the small routines that give shape and meaning to our days.
I’ve written before about the liturgy of dinnertime (and, more broadly, of marriage) in my life, but I started wondering where else liturgy shows up in my days. What small routines, performed over and over, pull me back to the present moment, until the act of doing them becomes a kind of prayer?
My morning tea is the first thing that came to mind. After my shower, wrapped in my robe, I walk into the kitchen and hold the red teakettle under the tap, counting to seven or eight as the water splashes in. I turn on the burner, measure looseleaf tea into my favorite cobalt blue mug (or grab a tea bag, if I’m super rushed).
I move around the apartment, tending to other details of the morning, until I hear the kettle whistle and rush in to take it off the burner. I pour the tea, let it steep while I get dressed and blow-dry my hair, then sit down (if there’s time) to sip it at the dining room table, with a scone or a bowl of cereal.
Sometime during the workday, or on my lunch break, I slip away to Darwin’s for half an hour with my journal and a cup of chai. This routine, too, has its own shape: I walk in, join the line by the front counter, greet the barista and order a medium chai (sometimes adding a scone or my favorite breakfast sandwich). I snag a table if I can, or perch on a bench or barstool if I can’t, and alternate between sipping and scribbling until it’s time to go back to the office.
When I get home after work, my brain is often fried – and even in our small apartment, there are always chores to do. Often, after walking in the door and dumping my bag, the first thing I do is sort laundry or tackle a pile of dirty dishes.
It doesn’t always feel sacred, and I sometimes grumble about having to deal with all this on top of a full-time job. But making dirty things clean is satisfying, as Anne Shirley often noted. And folding the warm, dry clothes, or lining up the shining dishes in the dish rack, brings a tangible feeling of accomplishment. After a day of clicking and typing, that’s nothing to sneeze at.
I worry sometimes about getting bogged down in routine, going through the motions of my life without really paying attention. (It’s so easy to do that when I’m clicking from email to website to Word doc, all day long.) But repeating these daily acts helps ground me – even if I don’t always realize it.
I also have a few daily “liturgies” that involve other people: blowing a kiss to my husband as he leaves for work, checking in with a friend or two via text message, greeting colleagues as we start the morning. And several weekly routines also help save my life: buying fresh flowers for my desk, yoga class on Monday nights, talking to my mother on the phone.
I wonder if simply naming these liturgies, becoming more aware of them, can turn them into a source of peace, a chance to truly connect with our lives as we go about our days. I love the idea of small, sacred things on repeat as a counterbalance to the to-do list and the relentless pace of modern life. I want more of that, please.
Where do you see this kind of liturgy showing up in your life?
Katie, I love this! We must think on the exact same page 🙂 My morning liturgy has become sacred space to me: shower, coffee (which my husband Lord BLESS him makes for us both), audio lectionary while getting ready, smoothie in a to-go cup, and NPR on the way in 🙂 It’s so predictable, and so life-giving. Love your beautiful reflection here!
What a wonderful way to look at routines. I don’t get up early enough to make coffee or tea before leaving for work, but I always make a small pot of tea when I get to work to savor during the morning hours. I just started roasting coffee at home, which is a lot of fun. Most days, I’ll brew a small pot of home-roasted coffee when I get home from work.
You have just described exactly what I do in the morning, except my husband fills the teakettle as he waits for his coffee to brew.
As I read this, I reflected on my own “small, sacred things on repeat”, as well as how mine intersect with my husband’s and of how these are all liturgies. I have been writing a good deal lately about the ordinary in my life, now thinking of it as a more sacred as well.
Thank you.
I love everything about this. Naming and recognizing the “small sacred things” that are a part of our daily lives, that in their presence give us structure and also meaning. Yes. Mine are probably watching the sky break into dawn, my first cup of morning coffee, watching sunset, reading to my children. xox
[…] Small, sacred things on repeat: She could just repeatedly blog the words “tea. books. knitting” and I’d be OK with that. […]
Lovely post. I dread routine most of the time, maybe I should start to look for the beauty in it.