I made a lunch of lentils, quinoa, collards & sauerkraut covered in kimchi and tahini. The bee came curious, looking for something to make honey. I winced a little in fear of being stung, but mostly allowed him to be. Daring a closer look, a piece of quinoa got stuck to his wing, and a drop of tahini near that place where he stings. Immediately, I noticed the change of his focus, he was grounded and could not fly. Crawling around the edge of the plate, he worked toward an escape, by incessantly flapping his wings & hind legs which scraped the place near his stinger. Soon the grain of quinoa flew off with little effort. I was relieved, but not the bee, the tahini gave too much to gravity. The wings gave a hum, but nothin’ done, he was stuck like pulling a knife from your back. What shall I do? I see the tan goo. Could I wipe it away and induce liberation? Could he be still long enough so I could get just a touch without triggering his instinct for protection? If I help, and he stings, he dies. If I do nothing and he can’t fly, then he dies. As if to ask him what shall I do, I studied his moves, and realized he was giving me a lesson on listening. “There may be a time when I let you take away my burden, so stay with me. I might make it through by effort and pursuit, but you won’t know unless you stay with me.” So I placed my napkin close and he crawled on the cloth carpet, sensing the absorbent sheet. Turning to my lunch, I gazed on his struggle to release the tahini from his hind part. For quite awhile the battle waged on, with no indication of progress. In fact, it was distress. He fought valiantly, for a place he could not reach or see. What I had not noticed was the microscopic progress from each stroke of his leg, releasing a molecule of ground sesame. What to him was process was a flick of the switch to me, and all of a sudden he was close to being free. Just a pin needle’s worth left. Then it was gone! And then the bee... sat there. As if to exhale and say, “Ok, let’s see.” He lifted an inch in flight, the first since the start of his plight. I wondered, ‘has a bee ever gone 30 minutes without suspending his body?’ True nature revived, he took to the sky, with ease, Actually Quite Nonchalantly. His freedom was unexpected joy to me. To witness the struggle, not taking it away, not risking the sting, but all the while remaining loving. I couldn’t do it for him, But in allowing the bee’s being I gave no reason for the stinging. No reason for my suffering, no reason for his dying. And that sent me flying, too. -Weekly Poem #111 By Jeffrey Cohen (pp. 246-247, Vol. 2)
Posted on: Sun, 02 Nov 2014 16:26:39 +0000