I’ve been amazed this week at how much of my daily routine is automatic. If I’m the last one up in the morning, I make up the bed hardly without thinking about it. Perhaps this is due to that early morning fog which needs a mug of coffee to clear, but even brushing my teeth and raking gelled fingers through my hair is as automatic as riding a bike. I would love for the loading of dishes in a dishwasher to be as automatic to certain members of our family (ahem). Yet even in loading our colorful Fiestaware dishes, the placement and arrangement of them comes without thinking too hard about it…large plates here, bowls stacked side-by-side there, water bottles upright back there.
I love drawing these ordinary things. It seems to exonerate the daily rituals in some way, and makes me slow down and consider why I do them. Surely there are practical reasons: care for my teeth, order out of chaos, clean stuff upon which to eat. But I love how Tish Warren puts it:
“We don’t wake up daily and form a way of being in the world from scratch, and we don’t think our way through every action of our day.We move in patterns that we have set over time, day by day. These habits and practices shape our loves, our desires, and ultimately who we are and what we worship.” pg. 30. Liturgy of the Ordinary, Tish Harrison Warren.
Warren calls these habits and practices, these ordinary automatic routines, our daily liturgies.
“Examining our daily life through the lens of liturgy allows us to see who these habits are shaping us to be, and the ways we can live as people who have been loved and transformed by God.” pg. 32.
As I drew my hand on Day 3, I was struck by the amazingness of hands. Hands make the bed, brush teeth, comb through hair, load dishes, prepare food, drive a car, put on clothes, etc. I realized, watching my hand drawing, that even this daily ritual of making marks on a page in a sketchbook has become for me a liturgy. It is a routine that opens a door to seeing beyond what I’m drawing into a world where beauty reigns in the ordinary, light and love come through repetition, grace is revealed in monotony.
“It is in the repetitive and the mundane that I begin to learn to love, to listen, to pay attention to God and to those around me.” pg. 36
These are early days for my drawing pilgrimage through Lent. But I am so excited to apply this daily liturgy of drawing to the typically unnoticed places of our lives. As the prompts move along, they will encompass small and insignificant places in our dwellings and yards. I would not normally draw my sink, a shower head, or the contents of my freezer. Ha! That will be interesting!
Today, the first Sunday in Lent, is a Feast day and is therefore not counted as one of the 40 days of Lent. I will probably still draw today, as this liturgy of drawing is becoming almost as automatic as brushing my teeth. Whether you draw today or not, I hope you are finding this ordinary activity of sketching ordinary routines and things, a good way of focusing for the journey.
May this simple, repetitive act of drawing in a sketchbook be something (as Tish beautifully describes) that enlarges “our capacity to see wonders where true wonders lie.” May our daily routine of sketching form us “as people who are capable of appreciating goodness, truth, and beauty.” (pg. 34)
It is never too late to join in the pilgrimage of drawing through Lent! Just print off the downloadable PDF of drawing prompts and jump right in with us!