Have you ever seen a bee resting on a flower in the evening? They are sometimes old bees, tired or unwell after a hard day’s work. Old bees don’t return to their hive at the end of the day. They spend the night on flowers, and if they have the chance to see another sunrise, they resume their activity by continuing to bring pollen or nectar to the colony.
They sense that the end is near. Bees do not wait to die in the hive. They do not want to be a burden to the others but continue to carry on to the best of their ability to the very end.
A LOVELY WAY TO DIE
This sounds like a lovely way to die, nose nestled into the petals of a flower, nature quieting as darkness enfolds, the hum of life carrying on in the background a comforting, distant lullaby – a life well spent, drifting off in deep peace and acceptance.
Bees can teach us so much. All of nature carries on around us every minute of every day with little lessons waiting to be gleaned. We humans are so busy reasoning, rationalizing and thinking our way through life. Nature just exists and goes about its business by design. They don’t bother with the whys and wherefores. The reasoning mind is our gift and our curse.
At the end of life, I would like to let go of that last bits of my reasoning mind. After a lifetime of problem solving, often leading not where I intended, the quiet of non-thinking is a powerful lure. Death need not be necessary to quiet the mind. Meditation is a powerful practice toward that end, and perhaps somewhere deep inside we know this to be true, and are preparing to let go, preparing for acceptance.
A COMFORTING PERSPECTIVE
I take comfort from the bees, knowing the end need not be painful or even sad. Instead, it can be meaningful, filled with purpose and consideration for others. Purpose is comforting to us humans, and perhaps to the bees as well.
A bee in its dying moments opens and closes it’s mouth, kissing the ground upon which it rests; expressing his/her sacred bond with the earth.
So, next time you see a bee resting upon a flower as the evening closes in…
…thank him/her for her life of service and the lessons offered.
A beautiful piece of writing, Dorothy…it is a gift…thank you.
I have been fascinated with the nature and “consciousness” of both animals and insects my entire life and have spent countless hours simply observing and trying to learn from them. I have concluded that, like your example of the dying bee, it all comes down to acceptance of one’s essential place in nature and full and utter surrender to it all. The thinking mind, as you so wisely point out, merely gets in the way (unless we’re in need of an immediate survival tactic, of course. :-D)
I think we’re like minded, Marin! As you put so well, acceptance of our place is an important step. The cicadas continue to teach me new lessons every day that they are so very present!
Thank you for your wise perspective on living–and dying, Dorothy!
Glad you stopped in, Marian. We are always learning, aren’t we!
Dorothy. This essay is marvelously written
Your talent , gift and love of writing is surely
FABULOUS LOVE sister Carolyn
And you’re the best sister I could have dreamed of. We’ve been through so much together, and we’re still discovering more about ourselves and each other every single day. Beyond grateful to be “aging abundantly” side by side with you!