“Routine is disguised ritual.”
This quote came from David Whyte in an essay called “Routine.” I once gave a talk on turning daily routines into ritual. One example I gave is when I am getting all the pills out that I have to take in the morning. As I shake each one out of its bottle, I think: “Thank you, God, that I live in a time where science has figured out ways to control Diabetes II.” “Thank you for a teeny, tiny pill that makes such a difference to my days.” “Thank you for medicine that soothes my tummy.” Etc., etc. So this quote, “Routine is disguised ritual,” struck me.
Tish Harrison Warren wrote about this, too, in her book Liturgy of the Ordinary | Sacred Practices in Everyday Life. And, of course, there’s Brother (Saint) Lawrence and washing dishes. I love the idea of being with God, in God—and aware of it!—every moment of every day. Spiritual practices such as the Examen and Ignatian Contemplation help remind us that we are always in God’s presence. I wrote about “Tiny Jesus” being a reminder throughout the day. Our pastor told us about one routine of putting some coins into one pocket and as you run across them, take one coin and put it into your other pocket while you remind yourself of God’s presence. The goal is to transfer them all by the end of the day so you have multiple moments of awareness throughout the day.
The often mindless things you do during the day can be a good way to remind yourself of God’s presence. We can add new routines, but I also like that we can have these reminders without adding anything to what we already do. Just use what we already do to trigger a thought or make the already-happening a ritual.
Speaking of Brother Lawrence, something he wrote in the little book the practice of the presence of God, made me think he must have been quite a happy guy!
Whatever we do…we should stop for a few minutes…to praise God from the depths of our hearts, to enjoy him there in secret.”
I love that line “to enjoy him there in secret.” Can’t you just see him looking down with a little smile, having a secret moment with God? I thought of similar moments in my life when that awareness of love overpowers me:
Sometimes when I’m lying in bed by or sitting in the car with Randy, he or I will reach over and touch the other on the shoulder and say, “I love you so much.”
When a best friend is visiting, and every so often I can’t help but tell her, “I’m so glad you’re here!”
When I’m holding a baby and suddenly, with no rhyme or reason, I smash my lips against the baby’s chubby cheeks and kiss that little face.
God is with you and in you, loving you every moment of every day.
ROUTINE
by David Whyte
Routine is the way we worship fully at the altar of the timeless. Routine is the way we step down from what is absolutely extraordinary into the miracle of an ordinary day and an ordinary hour. Routine is disguised ritual.
Routine is not the routine word it has come, so routinely, to sound. Routine is how we disguise our rituals of attentiveness: and like all rituals, routines are a way of enriching our relationship to a puzzling and sometimes overwhelming world or keeping that same fierce world at bay. I drink my coffee at the same time by the same window every morning to appreciate the tiny miraculous nature of its taste or contemplate the extraordinary nature of my changing daily realities, or I drink it feeling besieged, I drink it hurriedly, not quite ever fully present but also not wanting the ritual to end, my precious time alone about to end too soon, my own set time but a time set against the world’s besieging time. Routine as defence against reality becomes my own self constructed temporary prison cell, repeatedly visited, until made permanent: a place where I go to close the door and lock it from the inside, my precious quiet, my only way of keeping the world at bay. Routine as protection and defence always feels merciful and protective to begin with, while slowly, over time, narrowing our character and our sense of possibility, all the while closing down our freer relationship with time itself…
-excerpt from the new essay, ‘Routine’ from Consolations II, now available at davidwhyte.com or Amazon