Inside: Find out the real reasons people keep bees, and learn how bees nurture inner peace just by being themselves.
Table of contents
When I first left home to live on my own, groceries were $10 per bag. That’s when bags were twice as tall as they are now. Today, the bag alone costs nearly that much, if you can even get one.
But high prices are just the beginning. I log in to my computer each morning and read threats. “Our attempt to update your WordPress installation failed.” “Your personal credentials may be for sale on the dark web.” “Don’t use your phone before completing this 15-point security checklist.” “The interstate highway near your home will be closed for the next 16 weeks.”
Sometimes I want to run, but there’s no place to hide. Often, I wonder if I’m the only one. Surely someone besides me feels like life is spiraling out of control?
Peace is where you find it
Once I catch my breath, I remember that peace isn’t somewhere far away. Not at all. The most reliable source of tranquility and truth lives in a little box in my backyard.
Inside that wooden shelter, a tight-knit family of honey bees goes about its business. The hive is alive with focused individuals unperturbed by digital messages and pulsating images. Unlike us, they are oblivious to things that others think are important.
Honey bees don’t care if your interior paint is last year’s color or if your hairstyle makes you look old. They don’t care if you split your infinitives or eat food past its pull date. And they certainly don’t care about your vehicle choice or your zip code.
Get a beekeeper alone in a room
Throughout two decades of mentoring, teaching, and writing, I have met thousands of beekeepers. On the surface, they chatter about beekeeping methods, swarming, honey production, and varroa mites. They argue over top entrances, bottom boards, and the best way to raise queens. Opinions, science, and tradition commingle until you can’t tell one from another. Each person knows he is right and you are wrong.
But here’s the thing. If you can separate an individual from the crowd the way a cutting horse chisels an animal from the herd, you will hear a different story. Remove one person from the competitive beekeeping environment and they will leak the truth and explain how bees can nurture inner peace.
What, then, is the truth?
Despite the bravado and one-upmanship, despite debates and innovation, what beekeepers truly love is their bees.
A beekeeper caught off-guard might describe an odor resembling flower stalls, greenhouses, butcher shops, and winter beaches—an aroma so compelling it makes the heart leap. They may explain how the scent of meat, salt, molasses, and soft crayons makes peace out of chaos and acceptance out of fear.
Beekeepers often describe the first sting of the year as a gift, the jolt of a drug they’d forgotten. A painful sting can redirect your thoughts from digital threats and endless emails and bring you back to what matters. In the presence of bees, even the wretched economy seems less gruesome. So what? One more jelly sandwich won’t kill me.
Another beekeeper may describe the shiver that crept up his spine as a bee crept up his arm. Exploring and examining, wondering what the warming weather holds in store, the bees stroll and enjoy. Like us, they crave the outside, the sun, the change of seasons.
For me, nothing awakens the senses like a dollop of honey straight from the hive. Just a drip on my finger, warm and sweet with the essence of trees and flowers and mountain meadows. A flavor found nowhere else on earth.
How bees nurture inner peace
When I ask people why they want to keep bees, the answers are usually practical. They want honey, they want to pollinate their gardens, or they want to save the bees.
All of those may be true, but that’s not why they stay in beekeeping. They stay because of the bond they develop with their bees. They develop a physical need to see, hear, and touch them and a desire to inhale the hive scent and taste the flowers. Like anything addictive, the craving doesn’t go away. It only grows and matures.
Besides the physical need is the emotional one. Your bees don’t give a rip about you, your plans, or your investment portfolio. Regardless of what you do, they stay focused on their mission. There is no greater joy than being among single-minded creatures who go about their lives not judging, not asking, not expecting.
Your bees will let you be anything you want. In front of your bees, you can be yourself. You don’t need to live up to their standards, speak their language, or imitate their style. You are free to watch, to learn, and to help them along without becoming a bee yourself. It’s all about respect, acceptance, and a love for nature.
And that, my friends, is the real reason people keep bees.
Rusty
Honey Bee Suite
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Most of my hobbies fall into similar thinking. The best ones have a sort of zen or flow about them. Totally absorbing your thinking in the moment.
Fishing
Gardening
Hiking a trail
Woodworking
And now the best yet – being a Granddad!
Being not Doing when it comes to that. And that lesson brings peace too.
Herb,
Congratulations on the granddad thing!
How truly poetic, and TRUE. Great way to start the spring, such as it has been here in the western PNW.
You couldn’t describe it better, that “bee fever” that we all catch but never goes away and the symptoms only get stronger over time. Well written! Brava as always.
Sometimes I just like to stick my nose through the bee-yard fence and count bees with pollen going into each hive. It’s not like I’m timing anything, so the count is meaningless. But it forces me to focus because only the bright yellow pollen is easy for me to see, and pretty soon I just slow down all over.
But it’s easier to say I love to eat all the hive products than to say I love my bees.
Rath Dé ar do shaothar leis na beacha ??
[God’s success in your work with the bees]
Niall,
Thank you.
Your comment: “The most reliable source of tranquility and truth lives in a little box in my backyard”, took me back 35 years to a well thumbed copy of The Snow Leopard by Peter Matthiason. Something about searching, and finding what you were looking for at home in the corner of your room. When I am with my bees, by myself, just me and the bees, then that is all there is: me and the bees. All sounds a bit pompous and naval gazing, sorry.
Helen,
That’s okay because most of us understand.
Yes!!! Thank you.
So true. It’s hard to describe to people who don’t keep bees the rush of pleasure I get from seeing bees from my hives flying out for cleansing flights on those first, barely-warm-enough days. After a winter of wondering how they’re doing in there, to see them again (meaning that they survived the winter! YES!) is such a singular joy. I can spend half an hour just watching them fly in and out, wondering where on earth they’re getting pollen from when nothing I can see is blooming yet, but somehow they’re finding it and just doing what they’re supposed to be doing.
Despite the stress they sometimes bring (is it too soon to split? Are they going to swarm bc we’ve had a week of freakishly hot weather in April? etc, etc) it is always worth it to me, for those beautiful moments of seeing them discover the patches of grape hyacinth in my garden or watching them drink from the bird bath (and sometimes saving a girl or two who got too close to the deep water.) It is meditation, it is healing, it is a world unto its own that we are lucky to have a window into.
The little nature center my agency operates has an observation hive and it’s a very popular display. One of my favorite things to see is a visitor or two just standing, watching “the girls” as we call them. Those of us on staff can also find ourselves getting lost in watching the activity in the hive, the bustling comings and goings of the bees. Sniffing a vent in the hive is to smell those wonderful smells and be immediately brought outdoors via the heady scents of summer. It is immediately soothing and makes us forget, just for a moment, the busyness of the day.
That’s how I got into beekeeping in the first place, working at a Nature center that had an observation hive. It really is a wonderful way to encourage people to see insects that many have been taught are “scary” in a new light. And yes, we’d have people just come to watch them too!
Beautiful! Thank you, Rusty.
And thank you, Carolyn.
I sit here on my bed, watching the bees from my bedroom window. They are the first thing I see every morning and I’m so grateful for their grounding presence in my life.
I agree with all of this. I am ‘present’ when I am with my bees.
Bee blessings from New Zealand
Toni 🙂
Those lovely thoughts on keeping bees resonate here across the Pond. I was feeling a tad down, but seized the break in the sunshine and showers of an English April to do my second inspection. What a tonic! Thankyou, once again, Rusty – the second tonic of my day.
You nailed it, Rusty. I can’t imagine my life without bees, the thought of that brings momentary despair. They are my messengers from the thin spaces.
Sometimes I go out to my hives and stand behind them, leaning over the top to watch the comings and goings. So calming to watch these industrious little ladies (I always say high to my girls). You hit the nail on the head with this post. Sometimes I get lost with your scientific knowledge of bees, but this one I understood perfectly. I enjoy your writings and read them all. Thanks for sharing.
For a while I had a couple of hives located in view of my bedroom window and having brought my wife breakfast in bed I would enjoy not only breakfast with her, but also watching the sun draw the bees out to forage.
Hey Rusty,
Someone mentioned to me this past week about research going on involving bees and PTSD. Something about the pitch of the humming helps? Maybe building hammocks over hives for people to lay in? I haven’t found anything about that yet.
Maybe a topic for your next article perhaps?
Hi Shawn,
It’s really a thing and there are some well-established beekeeping programs for veterans all across the country. Here’s an article in the Military Times: “Veterans with PTSD, anxiety turn to beekeeping for relief“