This classic book of meditations is an eloquent celebration of the spirituality of everyday objects and activities. Daily routines such as making the bed, reading the newspaper, sweeping the floor, and cooking supper are illuminated by examining their relationship to the Divine. Beginning with the first stirrings of consciousness in the morning, passing through the ordinary tasks of a day at home, and ending with bedtime benediction, Gunilla Norris gently reminds us that nothing is too common to speak to us. In the tradition of lectio divina, each meditation's subject is closely, contemplatively examined. Being Home is not only a beautiful collection of household meditations but also an important essay on how and why we should work toward simplicity-materially, socially, and spiritually. The meditations are complemented by Greta Sibley's small photographs of familiar objects, which both mirror and interpret the text. †
Many, many years ago, I found this small, thin book at a discount book store in Grand Rapids (MI) and it appealed to me. Gunilla Norris wrote these short meditations in 1991 about everyday household life as a way to explore the spiritual simplicity in our preparing food, cleaning a room or a plate, and shuffling about one’s dwelling. And given today’s world of coronavirus fears, social distancing, and confinement to home, I thought these pages would be perfect this morning. They were. • “Sometimes saying prayers keeps us from being prayers. Words come then not in response to life but in substitution for life. We think the map is the territory and we are untouched by the smells and wonders of actual living. For me the orientation that I want to embrace more and more is toward receiving my life, toward a continual intention to make room for Mystery’s way within me. I don’t think we can go deeply into our selves — but Life seeking itself can go deeply in us. We can be infused, loved and fathomed by it. And when we are, we cannot help but sing out our joy. We need that activity in us to be ourselves.” •
I wanted to like this book. The premise was appealing to me ... that we can meditate throughout the day as we go about the tasks of everyday. It was recommended in a book I'm reading, Simple Abundance, so I ordered it.
In pages set up like poems, there is precious little that is poetic. And so much of it is prayers to "You," clearly her word for God.
I think Chop Wood, Carry Water is the spirit of the book, but the execution for me left a great deal to be desired.
Although I felt that, at times, the meaning the author found in a task or object was forced or cliche, there is so much contemplative gold in this book. One of my favorite things about this book is the way it's meditative quality spans faith boundaries. Another is the way it finds the holy in the mundane. I hope to memorize a few of the prayers it holds.
This is a book rich in insights about what it means to be present to all the moments and all the seemingly mundane moments of your life. It's one that I read slowly in the mornings and will dip into again and again.
A lovely book of meditations and photographs that I had bought my mom in 1991. It is coffee stained and my thoughts drift to her as I read. The meditations take you through the day and focuses on our daily routine to bring awareness to these activities that we do without thinking. It is God centered.
A beautifully poetic book that bridges spirituality with everyday life. Through simple reflections on daily routines, Norris invites readers to find mindfulness and sacredness in ordinary moments. This book serves as a gentle reminder to find peace in the present. I liked the meditative tone and elegant prose which make it a soothing read.
"value and savor the sacredness of daily living, to rely on repetition, that humdrum rhythm, which heals and steadies." This quote sums up the entire book. It was a quick read. Maybe a little pricey .
This was a reread. It speaks to me. This used to be me. I took such pleasure in just being home and making a home for my family. I need to just "be home".
Norris said this took her 20 years to write, and I think it took that long to schnooker someone into publishing it. Very preachy and each meditation which might in and of itself have some merit, though not as I can see, is very off-topic. I think she needs some serious mental health intervention.
Update, August 2020: Having been limited to home since March during this current pandemic, I've been experiencing the entire gamut of feelings: gratitude for my comfortable home and loving husband, grief and despair over the unnecessary suffering of so many others, existential anxiety and dread, inspiring and enduring hope, numbness and exhaustion, and so much more. Today it hit me like a thunderbolt that what I need now is to revisit this book. To be present, to appreciate where I am in the moment, to return my focus to the love and care I can exhibit in every action no matter how small...this is what I need now. This is what we all need now.
However you experience spirit or mystery, whether as a practitioner of a particular religion or simply an awareness of the life energy surrounding us or something else entirely, allow the "You" referenced in these meditations to be whatever you need it to mean. Says Madeleine L'Engle: "Gunilla Norris's meditations are beautiful and human and show the glory in the ordinary."
First review from 2008: I keep this quiet book of meditations handy and frequently reference portions of it, pondering the aspects of daily existence that I need to bring into balance or want to acknowledge and appreciate, but every few months I love to read the whole thing cover to cover. Following on the heels of the Desiderata (1927), which had been with me since Jr. High, Being Home was the first modern book that really gave voice to the kind of spiritual practice I wanted to engage in, and illuminated the joy and dignity of caring for the places where we spend our lives. These are my favorite meditations that never fail to bring me back to center and create peace.
"How hard it is to know when the pot is too small for the plant. Some plants need to be contained, held very close. Others cannot be crowded. I don't know when I myself am too pot-bound, lacking courage to be replanted, to take the shock of new soil, to feel into the unknown and to take root in it.
This drying out this self-crowding sneaks up on me. It seems I must always feel a little wilted or deadened before I know I'm too pot-bound.
This african violet must first be cut and divided. The knife goes through the root. The white flesh exposed and moist looks as if it is bleeding. It must have soil immediately so the plant won't die. Then water. Water taken in from below. This water must seep up into the plant by infusion. Then comes the waiting as the shock registers. Days and weeks of waiting.
It will be months before a new leaf appears. Perhaps the plant won't make it. So it is when the time comes for me to be cut and divided so as to grow again.
Help me to see this not as a problem but as a process. Help me surrender to the growth that only comes with pain, with division, with helplessness, with waiting. Especially the days and weeks of waiting."
This slim volume, subtitled Discovering the Spiritual in the Everyday, presents an artful marriage of words and images demonstrating the author’s and photographer’s belief that ‘if anything we do in this life matters, then everything we do matters.’ The forty poem-prayers celebrate simple moments of every day – getting dressed, opening a window, doing dishes, saying grace – inviting us to remember the ‘sacredness of daily living.’
"Being Home" is an apt title because in the reading, you remember more than realize how much of the Divine is in daily activities. This quaint book recalls the love and power of prayer. A memorable and easy read. I want to say thanks to the writer. So....thanks.