By Rue Hass
In these difficult times, it is easy to feel like there isn't much I can do that will bring about change. Or sometimes I feel so much, and it all has so many sharp edges, that I want to close down. But I believe that how I stand in even the smallest acts I take each day probably makes far more difference than I know. Here is a story of a small act that made a big difference for me, and maybe helped the world.
One summer day I noticed a huge bumblebee in our kitchen window above the sink. Maybe it was a queen bee? I have never seen one so large. I turned away to get a jar to catch and release her, but when I turned back, she had disappeared—not to be seen or heard anywhere. I was baffled. I only looked away for a few seconds. Where could she have gone? I wanted to release her. I really didn’t want to step on her, or discover that one of our dogs had engaged with her. I looked for her for awhile. But no luck. So I carried on with my day, deciding that she must have somehow flown back outside.
The next day I had just finished my lunch and was settling in to work at the computer again when I heard a loud buzzing near the sink. I thought of the bee. Again, I looked and looked, but no bee on the windows, walls, flying around. I even picked up the small lidded compost bin to carry outside, because it sounded like there might be a bee trapped inside. No bee in the compost.
But then oh!—there she was—crawling out of the drain in the sink, from the cavity down where the incinerator is. Wet, bedraggled, bemused, and very irritated, but miraculously alive! How did she survive two days of sink use?? Quickly I put a dishcloth near her and she climbed right up on it. I took her out to the deck and deposited the cloth into the big tomato pot in the sun. She rested there, still.
I wanted to help this bee, this bee-ing. So I thanked the dishcloth, the tomato plant, the deck, and even the dangerous depths of the sink, as partners that held her safe. I took a moment to feel into my connection with the earth, and into my appreciation for bees, Gaian agents of renewal, weaving the fabric of life together.
I considered what I wanted for this bee….the feeling of radiant vital energy moving in her body, and the feeling of flying. I called upon the sun. The Forest Pansy tree growing next to the deck also came into my awareness, seeming to suggest itself as another ally.
Putting my attention on the bee, I imagined myself bee-ing her, drawing the healing and vitalizing energy of the sun into her body, feeding her internally, drying her on the outside. I held her in this blessing field, wishing her well.
The bee began to groom herself, her front legs moving rhythmically back to front, up from her midsection and over her face. It was fascinating to watch. She rested at intervals, sometimes leaving one leg up in the air above her head for a few minutes as she sat motionless. She turned herself to the sun in different directions. And then suddenly she was gone.
Marveling, I considered more deeply what I had done instinctively. I sat with each image that had come to me, trying to open my awareness to the information being offered by my subtle senses. I noticed that each of my images was a collection of impressions rich with information and meaning:
The sun felt warm, vital, energetic, expansive, powerful, inviting of growth, and willing.
The spirit of bees felt somehow like it was made out of the brightness of sun, fierce and mighty, a generative force, the sense of what a piece of the the sun would sound like if you could hear it. It felt intentional, purposeful, focused. I loved the sense of drinking in beauty and sweetness all day, every day, weaving the world together.
The soul of the earth felt like a burgeoning, loving holding space. I imagined it as an embracing feminine presence with a vast flowing garment that held all the living beings on the earth in its folds. The bee was there.
Flying felt like a light, lifting, dancing shape. I thought that the bee might need this feeling to imagine herself taking flight again.
These subtle perceptions were registered in my whole body. My mind then translated all these impressions into words, pictures, understanding. I think of this as the intelligence of my felt senses at work. This intelligence is always there when I pause to become aware of it. Through the process, I began to realize that the world is constantly touching me through my subtle senses, as I am touching it. There is a flow of intelligence and information between me and everything around me. I felt expanded, enhanced and somehow more present by my experience with the bee.
But someone might ask: "How does this serve a world overwhelmed and in need? How does this serve a polluted planet? How does this serve a hungry, starving child?” Those are such huge questions, and huge issues. They are overwhelming and numbing to even consider.
David Spangler wrote about this need to make a difference recently in his latest newsletter, David’s Desk. He said:
“I find power and a capacity to make a difference through touch. And again, this touch doesn’t just have to be with my fingers. I touch the world through my thoughts, my speech, my perceptions. Do I visually “touch” another person with respect and honor when I look at them or when I think about them? Understanding the many forms of touch and the connections that it forms in the moment—if only for a moment—is a way to understand our power to make a difference.
Stopping in for coffee at a local Starbucks, the cheerful and genuine smile and greeting of a barista lifts my heart and has a more lasting effect on my day than the coffee he served me. He touched me with gladness, and I felt affirmed. It made a difference. Did the world become a better place? Yes, for me. Did it alleviate suffering in Africa or South America or bring peace to the Middle East? No, not directly, but in a world in which we are all truly interconnected as spiritual beings, who knows where the ripples of a kindly or loving touch may go or what differences they may make?”
Likewise, I find myself always thanking and blessing and loving and appreciating the world, trying to notice and honor everything that is connecting and partnering with me. I talk to and “save” bits of the world as I can. Surely this way of being generates ripples of change in the energy fields around me. And the ripples surely reach out around the globe. In every moment we are either adding goodness or pollution into the field of the world.
And when it comes to adding goodness to the world I love considering the example of the bees themselves. They just keep finding the next blossom, enjoying the work, doing the pollinators’ job of making sure tomorrow comes. That is something.
Simply Spiritual, a monthly column by Lorian priest and Intuitive Mentor Rue Hass, will feature personal stories and observations about embodying the principles of Incarnational Spirituality in daily life. For more about her teaching and coaching, please visit Rue’s website: intuitivementoring.
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