A Call to Beeing


“Well, you got it done by May 26th, just like your dream, ” says Jesse as he comes up behind me, bringing me back from my partial trance like state as I am sitting cross-legged on the ground, staring in amazement at the entrance of my first hive.

“Huh? What do you mean?” I ask almost in increduously, wondering how my husband can possibly know more about my dreaming than I, who has kept dream journals for over 20 years.

“You know the one where you had to get bees by May 26th? That was the whole dream.”

I stare at him for a moment, partially still in disbelief at him thinking he knows better and partially now wondering if and how I might have missed something so important. He looks confused himself as he mutters something about, “I thought that was what this was all about the whole time. I didn’t know you didn’t know…” I run upstairs and flip through my most recent dream journal and back about four months, there it is. Written crooked across the page, my eyes closed in my hypnogogia stage so I don’t wake myself and lose the wisdom of the dream, are the words bee box by May 26.

It is one of those moments where you know your dreaming self knows so much more than your waking self and your waking self is in awe at the confirmation, but the ego is not ready to give up control and is fighting the obvious wisdom, so your dreaming self tries to hold onto that awareness as long as possible, (much like writing down a dream with eyes closed so as not to fully enter the waking world.) My heart’s mind flashes to memories of playing outside with my cousins, not watching my grandfather as he walked from white box to white box in a veiled white suit, but still knowing he was there. Another flash to my mother telling me that she and Dad agreed that my name was going to be Melanie, but when the birth certificate came, she just couldn’t write Melanie and wrote Melissa out of the blue, not knowing why and wondering what she was going to tell my dad. Flashing again to fifth grade where I completed my science project on honeybees because I had a few empty frames of honeycomb and a smoker from my grandfather and the props would help me have an easy time of a project. Then to coloring in a beautiful picture of a honeybee in sixth grade, with the words Melissa – Greek above my picture. Then to talking with my husband just a few years prior about my ability to just be, that we said must be spelled bee because it lasts so long it needs two e’s (especially long to him as a movement-loving Gemini).

Then I am back sitting on my bed with my open dream journal, in complete amazement at how long the bees had been in my life without me knowing it…from birth. I slowly walked back out to my new beehive, sat down in the same spot, in the same position as before, but I was a completely different person and would never be the same. That was the day I accepted my Beeing and fully, consciously welcomed bees into my heart. The bees had me completely by the heart since birth and will continue to do so until the day I die.


I now dedicate my life to understanding the pure language that bees speak, which is our original language too. It is so relevant to our lives in this confusing miscommunication that is our present situation. We can create a new healthy, clear situation with bees as our guides and love in our hearts. We can remain in that healthy world, if we just learn the language of the heart.


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