The Bumblebee

Spring morning after rain. Clean-washed butter light floods the room around me, warming my skin and splashing in wild abandon onto the carpet. I want to play too: I laugh, and lie flat on my back, willing all of the splashing rays into my arms.

I am warmed, caressed by happy sunshine. The purity of the light sinks deep within, and I feel the comfort envelop the whole of me. I lie still, tranquil, surrendering to this feeling of suspension within... something bigger than me, something safe and beautiful and almost holy.

"What is this feeling?"

I become aware of a deep buzzing somewhere in the room, and my eyes fly open. Exploring the room I narrow my search by process of elimination: unhurriedly, content to delay the journey. I know that when I find the buzzing, I will get up and attend to its source, and quite frankly, I am in no hurry to move from this deliciously relaxing spot.

The buzzing becomes louder, more insistent. I sense a note of panicked desperation within this air-born insect, and so I pick up the pace of my search. My eyes follow the sound as closely as I can, hoping to capture a glimpse of the culprit and lay to rest any concerns. Automatically, I double check that my epipen is within reach.

An unexpected 'thunk' draws my attention to the window and sure enough, there is a rather wildly desperate flying something bashing against the glass. Whew! - I am relieved, too big to be a bee...

I get up to sit cross-legged on the floor and gaze upwards to where this desperate little thing is trying to escape the room. It's a bumblebee! A big one, too. A round little black-and-yellow body hovers in the air, defying gravity and all the laws of physics, whirring invisible wings.

"Hold on little fella, let me help you."

I get up and without haste so as not to scare the bumblebee I lean towards the window and lift the sliding pane upwards. But the 'bee is intent on finding its way outside through the top pane, not realising that there is a beautifully free passage just below.

I am sure that the bumblebee will find its way out, so I wait a little while. The spring air is fresh, laden with the scent of moisture and cut grass. Surely, the little insect will know where to go, and follow the breeze...

But no. And what is more, the bumblebee grows more and more distressed; buzzing louder and louder, and bashing desperately against the glass.

I can see that this may require an intervention.

I lean across and reach for two sheets of paper from my desk. Very gently, and very slowly, I hold one piece in one hand against the top of the window pane, just above where the bumblebee is bashing and bashing itself. It does not seem to know that this barrier between the outside world and here inside this room is impassable. I hold the other piece of paper behind the 'bee, so that it does not fly back into the room.

I lower the paper against the window pane so that the paper scoops underneath the frantic bumblebee. Then quite swiftly, I use both sheets of paper to guide the little insect towards the open window, and out to freedom.

The bumblebee does not hang about. As soon as it is free, it makes a beeline for the forest and as far away from buildings as it possibly can!

I take a moment and catch my breath!

The feeling that I had earlier, lying in the sunshine, in complete surrender to something... I suddenly know what this feeling is, and I laugh aloud as I realise that my earlier question has just been answered in plain sight right here and right now.

There is surrounding me something greater than me: for want of explanation, I feel the wings of Guardians holding me close, safe. And when I guided the little bumblebee out of the window, the Guardians were telling me:

"This is what we do for you, all the time."

My heart is full. I now know, and never again shall I doubt. I shall be calm, and look for the open window, and trust that the Guardians can see exactly where I need to go. For always.

"Thank you. Thank you for being here with me. With us. All the time."