Reflecting on living reverently.
I am sitting in one of my favourite “sit spots,” a rock at the edge of the beach by my house that I call The Bay of Prayers. The sunlight is like tinsel on the sea and I’m enjoying the kiss of that same sunlight on my skin. One of the local ravens is cronking noisily nearby as I reflect on the journey of the last 2 years training as an Interfaith minister. This bay has held me and witnessed much of that journey — on the rocks over there I held my baby naming ceremony, on the beach itself I crafted my midway ceremony (witnessed by a raven, maybe the same one serenading me now). Many prayers have been offered to the winds and the mountains over the loch have watched my meditations.
I love this place — it has become such an important part of my life and my spirituality. I know it well and it feels like it knows me. It is a sacred place, a thin place soaked in my prayers (and maybe the prayers of others) and I hold it in deep reverence.
And as I sit here feeling the building excitement, the energy of mounting anticipation of approaching ordination, I’m pondering what it all means, and I know I’m not alone in these thoughts. Particularly I’m contemplating the term “Reverend” and what that means for me and my life.
Although the term reverend is commonly used as a title for a member of the clergy, I have come to think of it as meaning one who is dedicated to — vowed to — a life of reverence.
But what does that actually mean — a life of reverence? I recently felt Spirit ask me what it would look like if my whole life was lived as an act of reverence and devotion, and this challenge has fuelled a lot of contemplation.
The definition of reverence is a feeling or attitude of respect or admiration (Cambridge Dictionary), and etymologically, comes from the Latin revereri — to stand in awe or respect, honour — which comes from the Proto-Indo-European (PIE) root wer, meaning perceive/watch out for.
I love that this definition doesn’t feel stuffy, dogmatic or overly religious. (As John O’Donohue says, “Reverence is not the stiff pious posture which remains frozen and lacks humour and play.”) It feels down to earth, achievable, realistic. And whilst I definitely experience feelings of awe looking at the aurora borealis or an otter playing with her cubs, whilst encountering a sense of the Divine in meditation or listening to some sublime music, these moments are peak experiences — punctuation points in my spiritual path and daily life — the 5%. What about the rest of life — the other 95%? How does reverence weave its way through that? This question has occupied my thoughts and musings for some time.
And, as I often do, I turn to the poetry of my beloved Mary Oliver. Whilst she never (to my knowledge) used the word “reverence,” her writings are saturated with a deep reverence for the natural world and for the ordinariness of everyday life. In my opinion, she was a nature mystic.
It is interesting that the PIE root for the etymology of reverence, wer, means perceive/watch out for, and Mary Oliver says: “Attention is the beginning of devotion.”
Perception/watching out for/attention is the starting point of devotion, and devotion is intimately linked to reverence (and vow-taking), so maybe reverence is all about paying attention.
And that leads me to ponder my mindfulness training. Jon Kabat-Zinn, one of the pioneers of modern mindfulness, says that mindfulness is “paying attention in a particular way: on purpose, in the present moment, and nonjudgmentally,” and I recently heard someone say that mindfulness is “paying attention to the sacred in the present moment.”
Returning to Mary Oliver:
My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird — equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.
Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young and still not half-perfect? Let me keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,
which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all ingredients are here,
Which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is that we live forever.
Maybe this poem is a manifesto for everyday reverence — noticing, loving, being astonished, rejoicing, gratitude — all woven through the ordinary things of daily life.
Zen master Dogen said: “Enlightenment is intimacy with all things.” And whilst I make no claims to enlightenment, intimacy with all things sounds like reverence, and certainly sounds like something Mary O could get on board with.
It reminds me of a lunchtime some years ago when I sat eating a banana mindfully, carefully unpeeling it and enjoying the sensations, the aroma, the taste — and a voice in my head said, “It’s like you’re making love to that banana!” Yes — absolutely! What if my life was lived in such intimacy?
If I truly believe (as I do) that all things are sacred and imbued with the mystery of divine essence, then reverence is due to all of life — not just those peak moments of transcendent beauty and awe. John O’Donohue again: “Ultimately, reverence is respect before mystery.”
Mary O herself reminds us in her poem Mindful that the things that “kill (her) with delight” are not “the exceptional, the fearful, the dreadful, the very extravagant — but … the ordinary, the common, the very drab, the daily presentations.” And I love that one of her biggest challenges to me (us) — “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” — is uttered as she lies in a field watching a grasshopper eat sugar.
So in closing: what would my life look like if I lived a life of paying intimate attention to the wonders and mystery of my everyday life? What if I lived as a love song to the universe?
As I listen to the waves lapping the shore and the gravelly call of my raven friend and watch the sunlight pierce through the nearby clouds — here I make my vow to live reverently and to love this world.
– Written by OneSpirit Student, Andrew Jones
Andrew Jones: Andrew lives on the ruggedly beautiful, northwest coast of Scotland with his partner Rich and their crazy cocker spaniel, Jynx. Together they run a coffee shop on the Isle of Skye. Andrew has had a varied career path encompassing training as a vet, a Biology teacher, a mindfulness teacher and now a minister! He is a lover of nature, poetry, beauty and finding The Sacred in all things. His soul heroes include Mary Oliver, Hafez, Mirabai Starr and that singing raven. You can find him on instagram here: @joneswildsoul.
