Something More Beautiful

Something More Beautiful

As a bee slips into one

of the few remaining foxgloves,

stepping through the long hall

of that soft-as-suede blossom,

that’s how I want to enter

my work in the world, disappearing

into something more beautiful

and necessary than being seen

or known, knowing I am held inside

a life larger than my own.

*

The bee of the heart stays deep inside the flower, and cares for no other thing.

—Kabir

From my place on the porch steps, I watched bee after bee slip inside the last foxgloves of the summer, intent on gathering what pollen they still could. Yet given the length of those blossoms, their tapering shape, it was no easy process for the bees to move into them. They had to land on the wider lip, step into the long hallway of each fuzzy, soft bloom, then disappear completely for several moments, performing their invisible work before emerging again. So much of our own work of staying alive to wonder—to the wholeness of our lives—happens inside of us, and often remains hidden from view. We live in a culture where it is expected that we will photograph or record every moment as it unfolds and then share it with untold others in the hopes of gaining more attention, more affirmation for what we experienced. Yet the truly transcendent times of life tend to come more humbly, while we’re bored and alone, or when we are drawn back toward nature, choosing to lose our small selves among creatures that dwell at what Mark Nepo has called “the pace of what is real.” These moments also come when in the midst of some absorbing task or creative act, when let our hearts move through our hands and into the world. We have been trained never to vanish, always to stand out and be available. Yet when we immerse ourselves in what is before us, like bees easing into each blossom, we become part of something larger and more necessary than being seen by others or known for what we do. We begin to know that we are held inside a life, heart, and mind far more vast than our own.

Invitation for Writing & Reflection: When was the last time you felt fully immersed in something you were doing, like those bees entering their work of gathering pollen inside the foxgloves? You might begin by borrowing my phrase, “That’s how I want to enter my work,” and see what emerges for you. To paraphrase the poet Kabir, what does the bee of your own heart crave today?

A big thanks to all of you who have pre-ordered The Sacred Everyday from my local indie bookshop, Battenkill Books, or wherever you love to get your books! If you’d like signed copies of this or any of my other books, just head to the link below, and Connie and her amazing staff will ship the books anywhere in the U.S. This hardcover is beautiful to hold, and has color illustrations throughout—I can’t wait to share it with all of you in the coming months!

https://battenkillbooks.com/book/9798881612146

Foxglove photo by Elsie Neufeld