posted on May, 24 2010 @ 11:46 AM
reply to post by Firefly_
This struck a chord, and reminded me of two quick stories, if you will indulge me...
Growing up (in a very urban dwelling) I was petrified of anything larger than a dime flying that could sting me. I would even say borderline phobic.
Other than providing friends and family with a good laugh, my flailing arms and escape to the nearest opposite direction was commonplace and
anticipated with ridicule at backyard gatherings and outdoor brunches. While in University one of my professors hosted a backyard gathering for few of
his students. I was among the ten or so invited. His wife had created a stunning oasis of flowers and plant life. It looked like it belonged in an
English countryside not in the middle of a busy city. Alongside the back fence a row of blooming raspberry bushes hosted what looked to me like an
entire swarm of honey bees. It took more than coaxing to get me to step foot outside. Once I did, I found myself sitting in one of those large
Adirondac chairs with the wide arm-rests, and low and behold it wasn’t two minutes before a little bee landed within inches of my arm. While
scanning my escape route I found my professor blocking my exit. He looked down and advised me to observe the bee. He held out his finger and started
to PET the back side of his fuzzy black and yellow coat. I sat frozen in shock. He said “they’re drunk on pollen, they’re not interested in you.
Go ahead. Pet him! He won’t mind.” I did as I was told, and it felt other-worldly. It stumbled around the arm-chair, not entirely annoyed by my
interference. His front leg came up and stroked the chair as I patted his back. And then he was on his way.
This experience changed me forever. I was so buried in fear that these little things COULD sting me, that I never stopped to get close enough to give
them the chance not to. They have proven themselves to be most oblivious to me; I have adored them ever since.
Years later while working, I was on my way back to my office when I bumped into a colleague having a smoke break. It was late fall, and I noticed a
small bee staggering perilously close to her feet. I warned her to be careful not step on it… in that moment she turned around and went out of her
way to STOMP on it. I actually shrieked with grief. She laughed, and asked why I over-reacted. She informed me that she had done it a favour: the
season was ending. I immediately launched into a verbal attack, advising her that watching her go out of her way to destroy something so small pointed
to a major character flaw in her: her poignant disrespect and lack of value on the whole was abhorrent to me.
I believe life whether big or small deserves respect, and has a right to be here. Everything serves a function, whether we appreciate it or not.