Oh who was I fooling with my talk of sticking just to business of the microcosm?
I spent most of this week fighting what, in my eyes, was a significant a miscarriage of justice out there in the macrocosm. I have no idea if what I did has done any good, but I felt I had to weigh in anyways. AND I DID.
Even as I write this, I realize the bees talked to me about microcosm and macrocosm to help me let go of unnecessary guilt, not to encourage me to keep dividing my world into microcosm and macrocosm. Like I just did, for example.
I think they were trying to tell me that even though they work a geographical terrain, a “bee way” of only so many miles, humans work a terrain that is more fluid. More importantly, this shifting terrain only works when we come from our hearts. When we work from in our hearts, our terrain moves fluidly through a reality that is all one. If we are in our personality, ideas of microcosm versus macrocosm get us out of whack into false notions of me and mine.
In oneness, I just have to listen to my heart and do what I am called to do. I need make no fixed lines between micro or macro realms or cling to an assessment of their relative value. Tending a bed of cabbage is no more or no less than tending a continent, because it is all unity.
And if I remember it’s never a fixed line between what is and isn’t my realm, I won’t blockade myself apart from anything either. Even when I am mad at something “out there” and want to feel separate, it is not so.
But this oneness doesn’t mean I am responsible for the whole enchilada either. It’s that kind of confusion that sends me into retreat into the illusion of me and mine.
Like the bees, I need to work what my heart , in any given moment, defines as my ” bee way” as best I can and THEN LET IT GO.
This letting go is what the bees reminded me of this week. The letting go is another thing I need to remember. If I can remember outcomes don’t matter, I can stay fluid in following the hearts call all over the place. When I mistakenly get lost in outcomes, I get foot sore as well as heart sore and want to hole up and lick my wounds back in the fortress of me and mine.
I also need to remember that I really never get a clear sense of outcomes anyways. None of us can ever really know what happened because of what we did. I can’t begin to remember all the times when a note from one of you kept me going. Did you know that? I hope you do now, if you didn’t know before.
This week, during what appeared to be a futile tilt with the windmill of an institution of higher learning, I got a little too invested in outcome. Before I remembered that outcome didn’t define me, I wanted to go to a cave and eat worms, go to that separate establishment way away from the rest of the world. I wanted to growl there as well as eat worms. Can’t forget the growling.
But the Flowers lifted me up, the bees lifted me up, the dogs lifted me up, and letters from you lifted me up. And I thank you. Your bee way overlapped mine this week and even though you can’t always know outcome, let me tell you, in this case, the outcome was good.