bee stings and birdies

I have been being given opportunities to see beyond the obvious lately. Several happenings have given me pause and made me think outside the box or more accurately as if there never was a box. Things as simple as a bee sting out of nowhere, its itchy red reminder on my forearm still present and ever itchier after 2 days. I never saw the bee, but the pain was instantly recognized when it happened at the Pow Wow on Saturday evening. On my arm a short distance from the intense pin point pain was a stinger, no venom sack, just a stinger. Instead of thinking of the rotten luck of getting stung, I wondered what the bee had to tell me, what message or portent lay within the welt. I was on my way to purchase water for all of us (Doug, Rose and I) so I had the first aid of the icy bottle almost immediately at hand so the injury was kept to a minimum. The next day there was a honey bee in the house, just one. Doug rescued her and she flew free into the backyard that is full of blossoms for her to glut herself on. Today, I noticed a baby sparrow jumping along on the couch, it quickly hopped under the big screen TV and behind it. In a house where six cats and one big not so bright dog reside that little creatures chances of survival were nil unless I attempted to rescue it from behind our entertainment gadgetry. Gadgetry, mind you that Doug has wired in such a fashion that we just might be able to communicate with distant galaxies if we turn things just right. Of course, we might never be able to watch TV or use the internet router again if it is turned just wrong. I did not take too long to weigh the chances of right or wrong turnings but grabbed a soft dish towel and strainer (don't ask about the strainer, it just seemed like a likely back up tool) and proceeded to cautiously reposition the TV, did I say that it is a huge screen? The sparrow child was hunkered down at the very back of the cubby hole that all this modern equipment sits in. One drop of the towel and I had captured him. After very gently picking him up, I opened the towel to examine him for injuries and he promptly escaped my soft confinement. By this time the cat Gracie had entered the picture snooping all over the couch area with whiskers twitching, giving me a clue about how the bird had arrived in the house in the first place. So of course my little birdie friend chose the other side of the TV to hide behind so the whole rescue effort was repeated. This time after securing my captive I was very careful to not let him go. He seemed intact and perhaps even a little bored. With bird in hand I walked out to the back yard and placed him on top of the fence where he sat for moment before diving into the hibiscus bushes to relative safety. I pondered the time and effort of my labors on behalf of this creature who could have been hastily dispatched by Gracie without having to move expensive electronic equipment and who would also probably fall prey to one of our ferocious felines sooner or later if he didn't wise up. I decided that it was time well spent. Having been in the throes of life threatening situations all around in my family and friends for the past year and a half, I figured that if the little guy got to enjoy the sun for a few more hours and got to utter a couple extra chirps then the hour or so that it took from my day was a spiritual service and I can certainly chalk up a few more of those acts before I jump the great boa.
I hope that someone will do the same for me when I am disoriented and in a dangerous place sometime. The past few weeks have brought home to me how ever loving fragile every one and every thing is. It has also enlightened me to the tenacity with which we cling to life and our ideas of what the truth is. At this very moment I am at a loss for what I am supposed to do with the remainder of my life, where am I to live, who am I to spend time with, what am I to do to support myself, how am I to keep trusting that it will all be OK. That last little line makes me smile because it is not going to be OK. It is going to be painful, terrifying, boring, joyful, satisfying and awe inspiring but it is never just going to be OK. So I guess you could say that I have gotten yet another lesson about the birds and the bees, only these were about pain and fear and the fleeting of both.