In her book Quotidian Mysteries, Kathleen Norris writes,

As my sister has matured, accepting and growing into her responsibilities as a single mother, she has grown adept at recognizing and savoring the holy in the mundane circumstances of daily life. Finding spiritual refreshment in unlikely places, she can offer nourishment to her children.

Norris’s Quotidian Mysteries is subtitled: Laundry, Liturgy, and “Women’s Work.” What does God have to do with laundry, dishes, chores, and cooking?

Well, a lot, according to Norris. Norris offers beautiful reflections on the spiritual significance of such menial tasks, delving into dirt to dig up liturgical value.

As I went about my daily tasks this week, I had Norris on the brain as I pondered how I can find spiritual nourishment in the never ending pile of laundry, dishes, etc.

For one, I am nourished by the structure offered by these tasks. Dirty clothes thrown into the washer embody a week’s worth of grime and thought to be shaken down, spun, and hung out to dry. The quiet hum of washer and dryer wrenches newfound motherhood’s weekly chaos into an organized cycle; Wash.rinse.repeat. sustains me in its own precious way.

Routines and cycles of the daily grind harness the chaos from within and without…providing security and strength to help neurotics like me to go on.

Then, there is mindfulness. When I am mindful of a task, repetition forces my disjointed thoughts into focus, pulling my attention into the moment the way repetition in good poetry draws readers into an image. When I am aware of the warm spin of sponge in a bath of dish water, I can forget about tomorrow’s anxieties as I am consumed by today’s task that is not too big for me.

Finally, there is the holy grail of silence.

My friend Jennifer eloquently wrote in her blog,

The house was silent, save for a simmering pot of chipotle pinto beans. Silence and nourishment and prayer all wrapped up in one steaming kettle of legumes.

For me, the measure of my thought is chopped up, pressed down, and simmered away with the preparation of dinner. As Orthodox Christians sing in Liturgy, prayer arises like incense in cooking pot steam; I offer to God my amalgam of daily labor and thought, trusting Him to finish the work in the silence of simmer.

As I read this, I can’t help but laugh a little. This ain’t the monastery…Often my structure, mindfulness, and silence is ravished by the cries, giggles, and needs of my four-month-old…and the demands of my part-time job.

But…I believe the baby busyness just makes quiet moments all the more golden…even if they only come in fifteen minute increments…

Laundry and laughter, dishes and diapers, cooking and crying, shrieks and silence…this back and forth, this struggle for balance…this is life. And the cycle of it all, this sustains, this nourishes me.

[1] p.59

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