Flowing Like Honey
When I first walked into the honey extracting room, I said to all present, "I just need to let you all know up front, I am not a hard worker." I know, kind of embarrassing. But in some sense, it's the truth. I am a hard worker when it comes to diving into the depths of myself, claiming the light amidst the darkness within; the sweat and hard labor, not so much. But, an old dog can learn new tricks. And I did that day. First, I rolled up my sleeves and got dirty (actually very sticky.) And, I did turn the crank of that extractor for a little while at least. Not as fast as my counterparts, but still. And see that bandana on my head, it's there to catch the sweat. And there was a lot of it. I don't know if it was because I was working hard, or because it was hotter than the dickens in there (honey does have to flow.) But the best part about it was this: community. Several or more families did this work together. We harvested our own honey and the honey of others. And then, we shared a meal together at a long wood table in the middle of the beautiful Colorado landscape we live in. We licked honey off of our fingertips and laughed a lot. Andrew pulled a stinger out of his foot and moved on to the next thing. Lizzie poured honey into glass mason jars. And, kindness flowed like honey. Am I a hard worker? Maybe sometimes. Did I receive gifts that honey harvesting day? You bet, one being the benefits of a vital, loving community.
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