Earlier, I had addressed the importance of “practice,” (Practice, March 3, 2017) which if done correctly will lead to improved performance. Two well known adages reflect on performance:

1) “If at first you do not succeed, try try again”; and

2) “Its not the winning, its the taking part that counts.”

Unfortunately, both quotes suggest that the speaker is addressing a loser. The first prods a redo performance (perhaps practice makes perfect); the second calls for a participation trophy.

In my youth, I belonged to an athletic club, which sponsored children teams. It fostered both learning the sport basics through good coaching, stressing fair competition and good sportsmanship. Their member’s lounge, displayed numerous trophies among a prominent, ornate plaque, which sported a poem in Gothic lettering:

“When the one Great Scorer
comes to write agains’t your name,
he writes not whether you won or lost,
but how you played the game.”

In truth, “how you play the game” frequently determines whether you win or lose. Obviously, the poem focuses more on good sportsmanship than on athletic prowess, both of which remain important respecting good performance. While taking part is important indeed, striving to win fairly becomes the greater goal. “Anything worth doing, is worth doing well.” (Philip Stanhope, 4th Earl of Chesterfield (1694—1773.) However, Leo Durocher, baseball player/manager (1905—1991) favored winning over good sportsmanship with his notorious quote: “Nice guys finish last.” Striking a balance among those objectives is essential.

From the performance and sportsmanship criteria, which prepares one for life, an egalitarian approach birthed the “participation trophy” era, intended to build esteem among children irrespective of talent, desire and performance. Some psychologists claim that building children’s self esteem merits more importance than rewarding excellent performance. While empathetic for the former, I do not believe that rewarding mere participation should replace awarding excellence. Beyond the ephemeral joy of receiving a participation trophy, it provides little preparation for life. In university or career, no one is rewarded for answering “present.” Excellence merits an award; showing up merits no more than an attendance certificate.

Why work on improving performance, when everyone receives the same reward? An entitlement mindset, though perhaps attractive at an early age, does not prepare one for the real world.

Reverie, a delightful word which evokes pleasant thoughts and reflective dalliance transporting one into an alluring Eden. The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines “reverie” as: “daydream; the condition of being lost in thought;’ dictionary.com adds: “a state of dreamy meditation or fanciful musing.” The latter definition reflects occasional lapses when in a relaxing, refreshing state, as by lying on a sofa, sitting in a recliner, or strolling through a forest. Reverie takes one to a happy place, if only temporary, to emerge refreshed and energized to tackle the tasks at hand.

The poet Emily Dickinson invoked reverie in a short poem:

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee —
One clover, and a bee,
And reverie,
The reverie alone will do
If bees are few.

When reading a poem or viewing an art painting, silence dominates. Like poet Dickinson, one may move inside the scene, to walk the paths, to watch the bees, to smell the flowers, adding some reverie within the static environment.

As children, I recall utilizing our imagination in may ways, as by pretending to be someone or something, or as by discovering patterns or shapes in the passing clouds, reverie at its best. As an adult, I occasionally bask in the memories of a happy childhood, a pause which serves to remove any stress or tension of the present.

What does one call a person in reverie? “Reverier” may work, except the term does not exist. “Daydreamer” works, but intimates some ne’er-do-well who floats thorough life without purpose, thus detracting from the allure of reverie. After all, reverie comprises much more than mere daydreaming.

Too much reverie, however, may distract the reverier, aka “reverie practitioner”, from completing important tasks, and possibly qualify as “Maladaptive Daydreaming”, which some Psychologists believe should be classified as a mental disorder. See “When Daydreaming Becomes a Problem.” (Wall Street Journal, May 16, 2016.)

Reverie remains a luxury that we can afford in measured, treasured moments, after our work is done.