Bees here now

I rest within life. 

It’s quiet this morning, and I have a wish to just Be within myself and in community—both with this presence of Being, and with God.

Here is a stillness. In the midst of all our activity, we forget about that quiet place within us that forever waits to receive life as it arrives. It’s a place of darkness and great beauty that not only has beauty with in it, but receives beauty from life and draws it back to itself, recognizing a kindred force. 

Together these inward and outer forces of beauty engender glory. It’s in the combination of these two forces that we sometimes begin to sense The Perfection.

Aha, you say to yourself, what does he mean by that expression…

The Perfection?

Receive life quietly, in the center of your being, and perhaps you can know it. It comes of itself and by itself, like the bridegroom of the Gospels; it is both our lover and the one we love, our destiny and the root of our creation. None of the desire or agitation that comes with ordinary love accompanies it. This relationship is far more sublime, and rests within the same silence and stillness that Being itself does. 

Stop here for a moment. 

Just stop and listen. 

Sense yourself.

I rest within it quietly for a moment now, speaking from the relationship. It is a good thing and a simple thing, and better worthy of our desire than the world of things.

The Perfection is here with us; the kingdom of heaven is within. Do not doubt it; you can walk down this aisle and receive this ring at any moment if you wish. It emerges from and exists within the same trials that all ordinary human love does. All of what we love and go through in life is training, a lesson to be learned in order to achieve this marriage of the soul with Being. Yet one needs to learn to take life a little differently in order to qualify for this betrothal.

Like all marriages, once undertaken, this relationship can lead to the birth of a new child. 

This birth is a mystery; but the sweetness of its parenthood is undeniable.

Did I mention that life is forever filled with goodness? Ah, how silly of me. I almost forgot.

Yesterday we picked up the bees – thirteen biblical packages of them. It's rather chilly outside and we did not install them in their hives last night. Three of the packages went to a friend; the other ten are now in the basement in darkness. As with human beings, they need to remain cool in order not to become overexcited and frustrated in their boxes, so the window was cracked last night. Like a doting parent, I had my son close it quite late in the evening out of an overprotective sense that they might get too cold. So I went down there this morning first thing at about 5:30 AM to check on them.

I turned on the espresso machine—of course this is one of the most important parts of my morning ritual, so it comes before everything else—and went into the basement using the meagre light from my cell phone to navigate the narrow steps, which are nearly 100 years old. 

I opened the door on metropolis. These magnificent little creatures hang, clustered together like living drapery, from the roof of their boxes. There are probably about 10,000 bees in box, so I have, at this moment, over 100,000 bees in the basement... give or take. 

There was near silence in the room, even though it was filled with so, so many tiny lives. 

The instant that the light entered the room, however, that pregnant silence gave birth to a collective, elevated hum —very quiet, but intense and intelligent, an instant commentary on both the awareness of the light and my presence. It rose and fell in lockstep with the sound of my feet and the sweep of the light. As I moved closer to the bees and then further from them, opening the window a crack to cool them down a bit more (it was a tad warmer than necessary) the harmonic vibration acted as a living barometer. It has an exactitude to it; bees are scientists, taking measurements of their world that exceed our imagination and ability. In fact, they know more than we do: they know the smallest things of nature, and what they yield. We merely destroy; they study. Our laboratories have been in operation for a few thousand years; theirs, millions.

I learn respect all over again, here in the basement. I forget to have respect for very nearly everything far too often, and have to be re-taught over and over again. We are different, these bees and myself; yet we come together in life, and we are together in life. 

It’s this residence in life, with the exquisite and supreme attunement of attention that’s available, which can lead us into experiences of living that exceed our desire, and bring an awareness of a new and more authoritative desire into Being within us. 

May you have a wonderful and most nourishing day.

Lee