The Lesson from the Bee

[Originally published 6/20/17]

For many years now, my inner guidance has been becoming more and more obvious to me. Sometimes it whispers quietly, but other times it is amusingly loud. It’s the loud messages that really get my attention.
 
The other day as I was talking on the phone I realized that I had a bee in my house, something which my cats brought to my attention as they began to chase after it. I got off my call quickly to deal with this unwanted visitor. Despite the fact that bees can be dangerous, I had no intention of harming it. You see my policy in my home is that unless there is an infestation, all bugs get escorted outside as gently and humanely as possible. I’m generally neither skilled enough nor brave enough to simply use my hands for this task, but instead rely on a designated “bug jar” to help me catch and release the little intruders.
 
While on the call I had had my Bluetooth headset on, and for some reason after I hung up the phone to deal with the bee, the music on my phone began playing. I wondered why I suddenly had a song in my ear, and recall clumsily trying to turn it off while simultaneously retrieving the bug jar. Despite my efforts the music continued, so my second thought was to hit the fast forward button enough times until I reached a song which fit my mood. Yet with the bee flying around quickly and erratically, I realized it was a less than ideal time to be choosy about my music. Instead I focused on the goal—to catch the little guy without harming it OR angering it. 
 
As I brought the open jar towards the bee on the window, I noticed what was playing—a Christmas song. For bee-catching in the month of June, Christmas music seemed to be a very inappropriate choice! However with the jar in one hand, the lid in the other, and a bee that was becoming increasingly agitated, I decided holiday music was perfectly fine for bee-catching after all.
 
Within about twenty seconds I had successfully captured the bee within the confines of the jar. As I walked toward my front door with the captured bee I noticed the lyrics of the song. “Magic fills the air. Spirits everywhere…” I stepped onto the porch, being careful to close the door behind me—an important part of this type of task, which (as you may have guessed) I have learned the hard way.
 
I then opened the jar, giving the bottom of it a little tap to encourage this intruder to return to its natural home. Precisely at the moment that the bee flew out of the jar, the song continued:
 
“Let your dreams take flight.”
 
I laughed at the synchronicity of these lyrics, recognizing that the bee was now able to live its springtime dream, literally flying from flower to flower.
 
My amusement then shifted into recognition that there may be an underlying message in this for me. Through this brief experience with a bee and some "random" music, I had been gifted with both symbolic and literal guidance. Perhaps it is time to follow the bee's example and exit the confines of whatever does not serve my nature. Perhaps it is time to experience a more authentic freedom and allow my dreams to take flight.