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Hive, a Love Letter to the Future


A bee, one little life in a community that, together, produces honey. Each bee has a role and performs its job in that wordless order, a perfectly designed and executed contribution to the longevity of the hive. No need for an education or a teacher, the bee is born knowing what to do and the colony depends on this inherent instinct for survival. The hive needs the bee and the bee needs the hive. Out wanders the worker bee, from flower to flower pollinating plants including 1/3 of the human food supply. A plant breathes in what a human exhales.  And so the field of dependence widens.

This silent design, it is an intelligent evolving system in which everyone has a role, was born perfect, is dependent on all else, and serves the greater whole. The intelligence is a current passing through all things, the mirror beneath the reflection, the call and the response, the space between and within the atoms, intimately sensitive and responsive. Its net has bound time itself, its filaments stretch from the beginning to the end. The past and the future become two hands shaking, the binding contract of our solar system. That is how I know the light has always been here.

These days it is as if my being is made of a life giving sweet nectar; a golden, eternal timeless radiance that heals all, dazzles blissfully, an effortless constant joy. It is in me, it is around me, and in all things. The future, a vast and bright radiance, has been talking to me, helping us. Their love has gathered, rounded and swarmed and is reaching back through the thread of time which is always just the center of the sphere. I am found, one candle lighting another, a message given and received. Once seen, it cannot be unlearned. It was set in motion. What happens to the field of dependence when one light shines really bright? Well, I suppose it illuminates all things. And I suppose it required all things in order to be bright.

May I know the joy of interdependence.

May I drop into the perfect net.

May I be effortlessly uplifted.

May the world be healed.

Imagination | 2011 | Watercolor, watercolors from imagination