......a bee story

Yogis,
Once upon a time there was a bee……

I am sitting in the middle of my garden, planting, pruning and tidying up as she flies in and hovers nearby. I get quiet so I can listen. Bzzzzzzzzz. I love that sound. She lands first on the sunflower and buries her face. I watch as the pollen clings to her back legs. I see her as one of my many garden friends.

She takes off as quickly as she comes, heading down the street. She approaches a boy who lets out a scream and runs, arms flailing and legs pumping. She doesn’t know that he was stung last year when a wasp was in the towel he wrapped himself in when getting out of the pool. He sees her as danger. Something to fear. An enemy.

The bee flies into an open car window. The man turning on the car is late for an appointment when he spots her.  Jumping out and throwing the doors open he begins yelling, coming toward her swinging his jacket back and forth. His patience wearing thin. He sees her as an obstacle. An annoyance, on top of all of the other annoyances in his day so far.

She beelines out zigzagging through the trees and down toward a picnic table where a young couple is having lunch. She lands on the flowers growing under the table. They see her. “Shoo!” the woman yells. “Hand me that magazine so I can kill her,” he says. They see her as being in their space. Doesn’t she know they are trying to relax? An intruder. She flies away.

She arrives at the hive on the beekeeper’s property. For this beekeeper, the next meal for the family is dependent on consistent honey production. She is happy to see the bee. Glad to see she is healthy. She sees the bee as an employee of sorts. Necessary. A provider. She is grateful to the bee.

Down the street a family is putting some of the honey they bought from the beekeeper in their tea. They love the taste but don’t really give any thought to the bee. Honey to them is a commodity they buy in the shop. The stories they hear of the disappearing bees do not connect with the golden liquid they spoon out.

The bee flies into a tunnel in the bee exhibit at the children’s museum. As the bees pass through the woman points out the different types of bees and talks about their lives to the young kids. Teaching them about the importance of bees to our existence. The little girl stands on her tip toes, getting as close as she can. She sees the bee as beautiful. Yellow is her favorite color.

At last the bee arrives back in my garden as I pack up my garden tools for the day. She is tired and thankful for the fresh water I have put in the birdbath.

So, what is a bee? Friend, intruder, enemy, beautiful, annoyance, provider?

Depends on what pair of life glasses you are wearing. Each of us views everything in life based on our beliefs, experiences and expectations. The bee could have been a person wearing a different color skin than you, someone who worships a different god or lives in a particular neighborhood.  We each see them differently and very rarely see them exactly as they are. Our glasses are cloudy.

The next time a bee crosses your path, stop and watch her. Can you take off your glasses and see her exactly as she is? A bee, living her life the way her spirit and nature guide her. Nothing else.

Taking off my life glasses to see you,
SARAH

......determined daffodil

Yogis,
Hooray, there they are! Two weeks ago I saw my first bluebells peeking their heads up on a trail I take by the river. I know it’s now only a matter of time before I will be standing in a sea of purple flowers that make me feel like I am in a fairy tale. But from that first sighting until I feel like Snow White, there will be starts and stops. It can seem like an eternity.

This week I didn’t even go to check on them because I knew there wouldn’t be much change. The temperature had dropped and skies were gray and I knew they would be pausing for the time to be right. What’s the hurry, they ask? Many of the plants do that. We get our hopes up, only to have to wait until they feel ready.

But not Miss Daffodil!

When I think of spunky plants, daffodil definitely comes to mind. In late winter, hers are among the first green shoots we see rising from the earth and from that moment on she continues her march forward. No pausing for daffodil.

Heavy snow landing on her. No problem….. she uses her strong neck to lift her head through the ice. Obstacles are not going to get her down. Freezing nights after she bloomed. No problem….as she stoically stands still amongst her crowd to conserve energy so that as the sun rises she can greet us with her wide open sunny smile. Strong March winds. No problem…..she is flexible.

To me she feels like the herald of spring and she isn’t getting to let anything get in her way!

After living in our old house for 10 years I decided to have the overgrown brush from the side yard cleared so I could plant a garden. The next spring an enormous bunch of eager daffodils burst out of the ground, shaking off ten years of dirt and grateful that they could finally rise again. They made me happy.

There are woods behind my house which slope down to a small creek. Each spring at the bottom of the hill, with no effort on my part, I am greeted by several patches of daffodils, in a charming hidden garden. I try to imagine how they arrived there. Did the owner of this house choose to plant them there many years ago? Or are they transplants from the squirrels who have that knack of burying and forgetting. However they got there, I am glad they did.

Danny, my neighbor from next door, was an incredible gardener. His yard a rainbow of color. Since his passing, the property has been torn up. Trees taken down, bushes removed, front yard leveled and twelve foot holes dug for piping. It is now a dirt wasteland waiting for the old house to be taken and a new home built. Yet there they are……..

I am walking by and yellow catches my eye. Could it be? Of course! His daffodils are standing tall and shining their light on everyone that passes by. I wave. They make me smile. Danny would absolutely love this!

You can try, but it is pretty darn hard to keep a daffodil down. She is simple, yet strong, hardy, resilient and oh so very cheerful. I bow to you Ms Daffodil……

Cheers to daffodil!
SARAH

......magnificent march

Yogis,
Ok, so maybe the word magnificent isn’t the first word that comes to mind when asked to describe the month of March. More often I hear terms like unpredictable, long, muddy or miserable. I for one have what I would describe as a love/hate relationship with March.

I love the anticipation of spring that March brings! Those small glances into what’s in store for the not too distant future. On the other hand, after a few warm sunny days I develop the false hope that spring is indeed here, only to be deeply disappointed when the gray forty degree days return, and the heavy coat is once again pulled from the closet. It can be a frustrating month.

These last two weeks I have been watching to see how I know it is March. What makes March unique? Without having to turn the page on the calendar, how does March announce herself. Here’s what I noticed.

·        Monday morning the thermometer read 25 degrees for my early morning walk. Full winter gear and still chilled by the time I got home. Three days later I am in short sleeves, actually saying the words ‘I am hot’, as the mercury rises to 79. What other month can do that with such ease!

·        The daylight…… Since December 21 the sun has been rising earlier and setting later day after day, but somehow in January and February it feels imperceptible. Suddenly March arrives and you can’t help but notice expansion in the day. Throw in March’s daylight savings clock change and suddenly it is as if we have been given the gift of time!

·        And the sun…… It feels like she takes two giant steps up in the sky each time she rises. My medicine wheel garden, which gets zero sun all winter, acts like a giant sundial throughout the month, as a larger slice is touched by the sun’s rays each day until the entire garden is bathed in dazzling light by month end. With no filter from the leaves yet, the sun in March is brilliant.

·        March is a month of firsts. I see my first bugs, first green, first tree buds and first flowers, as the natural world wakes from its slumber. As the bugs begin stirring the distinctive drumming of the woodpeckers picks up in earnest. Wrens begin to scout out the birdhouses. The raccoons become feistier, this year deciding they like to steal my yogurt containers from the recycle bin to take to the woods and lick clean. Luckily it is organic! And every time you pull away a pile of leaves, something alive looks up at you with thanks.

·       And I once again find nights where I can open my window a few inches while I sleep. I love that.

Yet don’t be fooled. March will continue to test us. She is a great teacher that way.

Two weeks ago if the forecast was for 50 we would be exclaiming how awesome it was that it was going ‘up’ to 50. But here we are, already moaning that it will go ‘down’ to 50 this weekend. How quickly we attach…..and cause our own suffering.

Here’s the lesson plan for March. To wake each day, look out window and be grateful for what lies at our feet. Letting go of resistance and frustration (since all they do is make us frustrated) and not expect her to be April or May. Let her be exactly what she is. Messy….. and Magnificent.

Om to March,
SARAH

.....turning the corner

Yogis,
As I walk down my block, bundled up from head to toe, a small splash of purple catches my eye. I lean down and am greeted by a small patch of lilac crocuses who have pushed their way up through a dense layer of matted leaves. Look at me, they each waved! At that moment I knew a corner had been turned.

Doesn’t it feel that same way with the pandemic? As if we are all still bundled up from head to toe with caution and quiet, yet small signs popping up that we are now heading in a new direction. That although we still don’t have the clear line of sight down the next path, the corner has been turned.

What is ahead?

I have been asking people recently what they see down this road. The answers I get are varied but I have this sense that we are somehow waiting for ‘them’ to decide. That we will be guided to what the ‘new normal’ looks like. I think we may have it all wrong.

We are now at the one year anniversary which I find impossible to believe. I look back and see the many challenges but also incredible gifts.  Gifts I am not sure I am eager to put in the rear view mirror in these coming months. I take stock of now. Of this moment. What is serving me well that I will pack up to take with me down this new path, and what will I leave behind.  

How about you?

I have been asking people if they look forward to going back to the office. I know that for many young people the social aspect will have them eager to put back on the suit. Those a bit more established though, when I offer up the possible options, are mainly landing on the hybrid option. A couple days in person for personal contact, collaboration and to get out of the house, but the rest exactly as they are doing them now. Are we letting management know this, or are we sitting back and waiting for instructions?

Most of us have broadened our cooking repertoire and find we may be eating healthier. I notice on my early runs that houses are pitch black as everyone gets that extra sleep that having a commute the length of a flight of stairs offers. The trails I walk which use to be silent are now bustling as families, including even teenagers, head into nature. Driving to errands is effortless. Which of these will we insist must come.

Those with second homes are spending weeks and even months there. Living a life now they only imagined a year ago. Taking a ‘vacation’ even while working in airbnbs, on farms and in camper vans.

Yes, we want our children back in school, but maybe the top of that desk you set up in their bedroom can remain, transformed into their own art center or a space for ongoing puzzles. The table you shifted out to your porch might just stay there. Maybe the formal living room will never go back to being that. What do you want?

In my personal world I have been teaching all online. What felt awkward a year ago, has now become a beautiful community of yogis, including faraway friends and family since distance is no longer an obstacle. Students who could only make one physical class a week a year ago, now join in four times.  I form my vision for hybrid as well. The lights strung in the great room are staying. Building fires ever night this winter will continue next year. New painting habit…..coming along.

What do you want this new world to look like? Be sure you are taking the time to create your vision and then speak up! Consciously choose where this trail leads.  Don’t wait for directions……

I will ditch the six foot distance for many more hugs,
SARAH