Reverie and Reverance
It is a word I rarely use, but I came across it the other day and thought to myself, “That’s it! I’ve been doing that my whole life.” Until recently, I had no conscious name for it, but in a moment of reverie, the word appeared. The word reverie has a very fluid sound, like the way wind and water currents echo in my mind. Listening to the flow of a river while hearing the wind whisper in the trees, it is hard to distinguish between the two.
Moments of reverie are like this. Every expression of the world invites a dissolution, a removal of boundary lines. I watch falling leaves or witness pollinators dance around wildflowers, and my mind feels intermingled and mirrored there. Flames of a campfire tease my attention. Before I douse the fire for the night, scattered embers flash light with every subtle air movement. All these emanations reveal interconnected rhythms pulsing like nature’s heartbeat inside my own.
Reverie is recognition without conception—out of place and time. It cannot be located but nonetheless arises when we least expect it. It is those times when awareness sees itself through seemingly mundane moments in which we are focused, but not on any particular thing. Entranced and relaxed, the mind sees itself reflected in the light of experience with no effort. This is spiritual liturgy in its most sublime expression; we revere the moment without contriving anything.
Once we become aware of reflected light, everything we do is an act of reverence. Simply living our lives becomes the meditation we have been seeking but not really practicing—because we think there is some magical experience to be gained. In moments of reverie, we are pleasantly lost in the delight of whatever is happening. It is easier to recognize this when spending unstructured time in wildness, the natural world, which is a mirror to our unstructured, unconditioned self.
Reverie is not to be confused with “spacing out,” a temporary state of dissociation. This is just laziness. My teachers warned about mistaking this state of torpor for meditation. Reverie is quite attentive, energetic, but still relaxed. I think we have been conditioned by school teachers and parents to equate reverie with being unproductive, so we miss out on experiencing the reverence evoked in those moments. Most truly creative thought arises when we are free of the limitations our education and conceptual minds impose. Thinking outside the box happens when no such box appears.
My eyes catch a skipper butterfly darting between bright yellow blossoms of Oregon sunshine in our garden. All other words fall away…