The Quotidian Mysteries

I was just reading in Le Metro (the daily newspaper that is distributed for free in the subway) that according to a recent survey, 1 in 2 Montrealers suffer from loss of energy and small bouts of depression during the winter months of January and February. Living in a very wintery place, where the days are short, and the climate biting, this is a reality I have become acquainted with this winter season. Lauren and I have both noticed a loss of energy and a lack of motivation (although I think I've been a bit more susceptible than she this season for some reason). Fortunately, I picked up a book back up that I had started this summer and remembered as pertinent for the daily grind we now face in these unwelcoming months. It's called The Quotidian Mysteries by Kathleen Norris. It's a very small book based on some lectures she gave at a conference on women's spirituality. The sub-title of the book is "Liturgy, Laundry, and 'Women's Work'". Ironic as it may sound, I have thoroughly enjoyed reading this seemingly female-oriented book the last few weeks because of the wisdom and inspiration it provides for the mundane tasks of daily life (i.e., changing a diaper, feeding your toddler, picking up all the food he throws on the ground, sweeping, taking out the trash, organizing, and on and on and on). The author, also a poet, describes how God has given us these seemingly-endless daily tasks much in the same way he has given us the task of worship. Both are never fully completed, and, thus, both require repetition: a repetition that at times (say in January or February) can seem deadening and worthless. However, we know all too well that the house must be cleaned, and the diaper changed and that we always feel better afterward. Much in the same way, our worship of God as the source and giver of life is an ongoing process, full of peaks and valleys, exultation and boredom. Yet we're asked to continue it through all seasons, and as we do that, our sanctification is fleshed-out in the fabric of our very ordinary days.