In the bees I find a mirror.Which is the bee? The individual or the colony? Watch them perform their tasks, there is no self. To separate the individual from the whole is death. Each bee bears the scent that defines the organism. The colony.
As with us.
I started farming with a vision of independence. But as with life, I learned the opposite. The Earth herself taught me that independence is pursuit for Ego. For perfect harmony, we must be tied to those around us, as well as to the Earth. That was clear with the first stroke of my shovel against the ground, when it bounced back at me laughing. My will too is strong, but I am nothing without the whole.
And yet, the closer I get to Mother Earth, the less familiar the scent I wear. Until it is unrecognizable. And the more comfortable I become with the scent, the further I am pulled from the Earth. Dissonant dilemma that is my condition.
I love to watch the bees. Each seem to possess a profound belonging. A wisdom.
One bee cannot change the colony. But a bee removed, and placed in a new colony, can change the bee. She takes a new scent. A new identity, and becomes a part of a new whole. But they must be protected during this process, or the others will destroy them.
Humans are not bees. In us, are belief and creed. Yet we must wear the scent of our colony. And if it is not in harmony with our self, we must live with the painful awareness of isolation.
A wish burns, to someday wear a scent in harmony with the individual self. With the Earth.
A bliss of true belonging as yet not found.
