Yes I can

I remember when I was teaching my now 15 year old niece to climb trees. It was late spring in the budding forest and we were crossing a thick patch of mud. The only way to get across without getting dirty was in the trees. So we went up. I saw the fear in her eyes as I encouraged her to go to the next tree. "I can't" she whined.

It was in that moment when I realize 'can't' is the only thing that could make her fall. 'Can't' was the only thing that got in the way of her making that confident swing from one tree to the next. I knew she could, but it was in the face of her knowing that she could not. I explained to her that when one takes risks such as climbing trees one has to believe in themselves otherwise gravity will win. When you reach your small hand over to grab that branch and you do it with trepidation, you will have a weak grasp and may lose it. You have to grab the branch and swing your foot over with confidence, trusting that it will land where you want it to and the next tree will hold you just as this tree has. If you second guess any of that, in the mud you will go. I showed her how I do it and encouraged her to follow. She made the leap and we made it home tracking little mud behind and a new word in our conversation. Can.

But 10 years later and I find myself forgetting that word. The bees have mites, they are being robbed and any attempt of feeding them seems to be causing more harm than good, the hive is not tight, the bees, pollen and nectar are in too many different areas. I go in to help them with treatments for mites and they sting like a colony of killer bees. I can't. I just can't do this. Beekeeping isn't meant for me. I am a woman...too sensitive, too weak. I think too much, I don't do enough, I anthropomorphize, I just cannot do this!

There is a rush that happens when I crack the propolis seal on the inner cover over the hive. The ladies come up and greet me. Sometimes calmly, often with a bit of 'what the hell?!' My hands shake and my body trembles. My heart beats in my head. I feel my insides being exposed as I expose hers. "Am I doing this right? Am I hurting them? Am I smart enough, good enough, sure enough?" They smell fear. They smell doubt. They insist with their piercing poisoned stings that I am not. "Go Away!" they insist.

And so I do. The belief of 'I can't' has permeated this hive. In beekeeping one has to make split second decisions and be confident in them. Like climbing trees or rocks. Angry bees are the gravity of the situation ready to take you down and swell you up if you do not move with stealth and care.

Consciousness of my body and their body, care for each movement and each split second decision is of utmost importance when working a hive. Last week I had to go into the hive and tighten it up. I took a lot of deep breaths and listened to their responses to my attitude. When They got worked up ('what the hell are you doing moving my home around?!') I breathed deeply and moved within the resistance. They were very calm when the hive was put back together minus one box. Love and vulnerability made the work possible. Can is a word that is being remembered again as I work with these amazing bugs!

Anthropomorphizing

This marks my third summer working with the bees. I was thinking that 3 years sounds like a long time but it is nothing in helping me understand such a great mystery as the honeybee and the hive. Among beekeepers it is said that in order to be considered a beekeeper you need 5 years under your belt. Most people make it 3 at most. I understand why.

Last year, true to personal form, I thought I understood beekeeping pretty well. I worked with and studied under some great teachers and movers and shakers in the bee world. I went into a lot of hives and saw a lot of different bee realities. I knew what was going on most of the time and felt pretty comfortable in my work. That was until the cords were cut and I was out on my own. On my own and often too proud to ask for guidance…

Fear.

Fear is the biggest hurdle in this work. It is not the fear of being stung that gets me. It is more the fear of upsetting a volatile being. It is the fear of hurting someone who cannot afford any more hurt. It is the fear of my own power to foster life and manifest death. With thousands of stinging insects buzzing in my ears all of these fears come rushing to the surface, forcing my heart to beat faster and harder, causing my entire body to quiver uncontrollably as if I had just downed a gallon of coffee.

Fear.

With all of this fear I would forget to breathe.

Without breath it is likely I will make a fatal mistake. And I have.

Thousands of bees can live or die at my hand. That is a huge responsibility for someone who shies away from such things. One wrong move and the whole thing could end. One thoughtless manipulation and the bees could have a few weeks of recovery from my lack of forethought, or thought of their needs over my own.

This is beekeeping. This is learning.

Add to all of this disease and mites and my sleep is lost at night. I see why folks quit after 3 years. The pain of losing hives, of seeing your sweet little ladies inundated with those little blood sucking parasites. To see her little legs trying futilely to remove the mite that is so perfectly positioned so that the bee cannot get her off. To see the babes with shriveled wings and shrunken bodies is heartbreaking. Small hive beetle, wax moths, wasps, mice, ants, you name it…we are all after what the bees got. How about witnessing a brutal war between a weak hive and a strong hive. The strong hive will come and destroy the weak hive and steal all of it’s honey. Peaceful my ass!

When times are good, times are good. Nectar is flowing, brood is being born, the hive grows, the honey is stored. Everyone is happy and full of love and light. But when the slim times come. Well, you know. It’s ugly.

Mainly though, what I am doing is projecting my inner process onto the bees. I imagine this is much of the medicine that they offer up to us; and have offered up to us for thousands of years. They are healers and I a humble servant. My fear is for all sacred mysteries and I pray that we will make it through these challenging times together. I pray that in 2 years I will have a big beekeeping initiation. We will all do a waggle dance together to celebrate the harvest of health and prosperity as well as human submission to the divine wisdom of nature.

Is anyone reading this? Is blogging as inane as I believe it to be?