Bee-ing

I remember being afraid of bees when I was a kid. I know for a fact that one bumble bee got a great laugh as it chased me down the street. It knew what it was doing, knew I was scared out of my mind, and I'm certain it went back to the other bees with a story about a little pigtailed kid who thought it could sting her.

Thirty-something years later, me and the whole bee community are on better terms. In fact, now that I'm clearer on how important they are to our entire food chain, I love them. With all the talk of the disappearing honey bees, whenever I see one, I get excited.

This morning I was on a conference call while I walked my dog. For some reason doing two things at once made me more attentive than usual to little details I normally overlook when I walk Chocolate. At one point, I observed a dead spider on the ground and actually bent a little closer to check out what kind it was. Not that I know anything about the various types of spiders beyond their look, but intuitively I get some sense of them.

Later I happened to glance down and saw a bee. It was wiggling its little body and seemed to be doing a bit poorly. Just following my gut, I leaned down and extended a finger to its bottom half and sent it a little Reiki. It wriggled a little more. I got up and walked away.

A few seconds later, about twenty feet from where I'd barely touched it, the most beautiful thing happpened. He buzzed me. The bee came close enough to buzz right inside my ear and then flew off at a right angle. Maybe I too recently saw the Bee movie, but in that instant I intuitively understood it came close to say thanks. Before I processed it consciously, I sent off a telepathic "no problem" in reply. My heart was full.

Real or imagined, I love feeling and believing that the smallest gestures are grand in impact.