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Weekly Wide-Awake: The Togetherness of Bees
Nature promotes mutualism. The flower nourishes the bee. The river waters quench the thirst of all living beings. And trees provide a welcoming home to so many birds and animals. There is a rhythm to this togetherness.
Ram Nath Kovind
I am thinking about the togetherness of bees. Let me explain. I believe in mutualism, oneness, and the wholeness of things. I find hope, faith, and optimism there. There is something deep down hopeful about a healthy hive that makes honey. Faith bursts from a flower’s blossom. That is the rhythm of beauty and optimism itself. Everything and everyone has a role to play. There is urgency. Paying attention ensures survival.
That makes sense to me in the way that even idle time is alive with the possibility’s buzz.
I draw lessons from the bees. Bees find and share life’s sweetness. Bees make the most of life’s brevity and purpose. Bees are builders and creators. Bees rely on one another.
I want to celebrate togetherness—togetherness that connects and creates, togetherness that nourishes and sustains, togetherness that invites and breathes and grows, togetherness as big as oceans and mountains and deserts, togetherness as strong as scar tissue and stars and love, togetherness that pollinates loving kindness.
What I Keep Learning
Blossoms
There are days we live/ as if death were nowhere/ in the background; from joy/ to joy to joy, from wing to wing,/ from blossom to blossom to/ impossible blossom, to sweet impossible/ blossom. — Li-Young Lee
I have a secret path in the park where I walk. On the way to the secret path (which is secret because I like to think it is hidden, not because no one knows about it), there is a small peach orchard.
The Bee Comes
The flower doesn’t dream of the bee. It blossoms and the bee comes. – Mark Nepo
I am fascinated by nature’s perfect timing. Flowers bloom. Tides roll. Rivers flow. The moon waxes and wanes. The sun shines. It all moves in divine rhythm. There is a natural order to our days when we pay attention. We run with open hearts and hands to what is ours. We sing our song. We thrive. We hold what matters close. We let go of what does not serve. Perfect time is beautifully simple and impossible to ignore. Like the rapid, we are told to let perfect time carry us to safety at the river’s edge, and we resist at our peril. It is better to make peace with perfect time and relax into the rhythm of the blossom and the bee.
Someone Forgot to Mention Your Death to the Bees
The last ghost leans with her ear against a dead wasp nest./ She closes her eyes and listens// To you, still singing/ Beyond the kingdom of the living. — Ansel Elkins
To be described as still singing. Despite it all. Because of it all. Before it all. During it all. After it all. Beyond it all. That is what I desire.
Paying Attention
“Someone Forgot to Whisper Your Death to the Bees” by Ansel Elkins
About Katie
From Louisville. Live in Atlanta. Curious by nature. Researcher by education. Writer by practice. Grateful heart by desire.
Buy the Book!
The Stage Is On Fire, a memoir about hope and change, reasons for voyaging, and dreams burning down can be purchased on Amazon.