Prolifically Raw: Bee Neighbors

Saturday, July 08, 2006

Bee Neighbors

A small hole is in the gravel and from that hole, a smaller bumble bee lifts out. He hovers, he drifts and then, he is gone in a flash of wings.

He hums past my shoulder and I lean left to give lots of room.

Two more bumblebees come in for a landing, hovering down to the hole and then disappear under the ground.

*

My best Buddhist friend puts her hands on her hips. She is quiet and thoughtful.

�Buddha�s first precept,� I say, �do not kill. First commandment, thou shalt not kill.�

She shakes her head, a wild mane of black hair clipped back from her face.

�We kill all the time, pick a flower, you are killing the flower, not to mention the countless creatures who live near and on the flower, all who die because it was picked. There are also the creatures killed as you walked on the grass approaching the flower.�

One, two, three bumblebees rise from the hole, hovering an inch above the ground.

�One commandment,� she says, �harm nothing with hate.�

The bee�s lift and take off in separate directions.

�So what?� I say, �I put a bucket over their world, let them die miserably and do this with all the loving kindness in my heart?�

She shrugs and smiles.

�Pesky problem,� she says.

Half a dozen bees return home, their legs heavy with pollen grains.

I have another friend who tells stories of asking sugar ants to leave her house and they do it!

I come out, three nights in a row, asking the bees to relocate. Please, this is not a safe place for you. The children play right here, next to your house, on the play structure. You are in grave danger.

The bees ignore me, rising from the little hole, going back to the hydrangea, while others return from their efforts and disappeared into the hole.

Perhaps they just need time to pack up.

Still another friend says to be done with it, �don�t worry, you won�t come back as a bumble bee.�

This counsel is disturbing to me. While it comes from a loving heart that is offering reassurance, how does she know this? The Buddha said that it is impossible to know the effect of cause and effect until one is enlightened.

The bottom line, for me, is how it takes such a long time to gather that much pollen. They are so diligent, so committed. How could I kill them? And, I don�t want to take the lives of creatures causing no real, immediate harm. Yes, one of the children could get stung, that would be painful but honestly, I�ve never been harmed by a bumblebee. What are the chances?

Day four comes and I have a can of bee killing foam in the kitchen. Spencer takes it and gives it a good shke.

�Did you take out the bees last night?" he asks.

I take the can and place it back on the counter.

�No,� I say, �I just can�t.�

"That's good," he says. "They aren't hurting us."

At the market, I come across my friend who gave the reassurance of my rebirth. She says that I could call a beekeeper to remove them.

�Hmmm,� I say, �Interesting.�

My Buddhist friend calls to suggest a little fence that keeps the kids from the gravel, but allows the bees to carry on.

�Another possibility,� I say.

And still, I think.

A great writing teacher told me this: we don�t live on things. We live on the meaning of things. So what exactly does a bumblebee represent, to me? What is the symbolism here?

When I was a child, alone and quite afraid after the deaths of my parents, I was walking down a sidewalk and a bumblebee flew directly into my forehead. Due to my own miserable state at the time (hearing voices and struggling with loneliness, abandonment and fear) I screamed like a banshee and ran as fast as possible in the opposite direction of the bee. The actual situation was far less threatening than my reaction to it, but the event lifts as a sad and serious representation of my state of mind at the time.

Being destabilized by the deaths, being alone in a scary place, being unloved and even profoundly abused, makes us crazy. Any tiny thing can set us off.

Many years later, I dated a man who would pet bumblebees as they rested on clover. He was really cute, bending down and petting the little creature. This man was very healing to my soul as well, treating me with gentle kindness and love.

Of course, there�s also the Ferdinand the Bull Story, by Munro Leaf (a favorite) where Ferdinand sits on the bee and the bee stings him. Bumblebees seem quite tame until someone sits on them.

Okay, good to know.

After investigation, there is also the issue of how the bumblebee, according to the laws of aerodynamics, should not be able to fly. Scientists have discovered that the extraordinary speed of its wing motion allows flight. It seems the bumblebee is a symbol for achieving the impossible.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
take these broken wings and learn to fly.

Seems somewhat interesting.

It seems rather impossible, that I am here, and yet, here I am.

More? In Hinduism, bees relate to various deities, in Egypt, they represent royalty.

The Druids saw the bees' social structure as a productive and efficient community, centered on the Queen Bee, which was seen as the model of an ideal society focused on the Goddess. The ancient word for the Sun was also the name of the Goddess, and bees were considered solar messengers. Mead, the fermented drink made from their golden honey, was consumed at sacred festivals.

The hive symbolized the ideal community, and this image was echoed in the beehive tombs of Newgrange and Dowth, in Ireland. In later Christian times monks lived in beehive-shaped huts, symbolizing both community and meditation -- for the humming of bees was believed to lull one into a mystical, meditative state.

In the Northwest, Indians regard the bumble bee as a symbol of honesty, pure thinking, willingness and drive.

And last but not least, the bee, especially the queen is a symbol of The Virgin Mary. There She is again. Did I mention that I wrote a novel the contemporizes the life of the Virgin Mary? That sacred diety is back, offering lessons on merciful, limitless compassion.

Now my heart bursts for the impossible and yet, very present bumblebees with their legs loaded with grains of golden pollen. They harm no one, certainly not me.

In fact, look at how they teach.

I call my Buddhist friend.

"I have a solution!" I say.

"The fence?" she says. This is the way she is, she just knows.

"Yes."

"Perfect," she says.

*Bumblebee Music, Abstract Drawing by Loren D. Adams Jr.