THE HONEY MAN

THE HONEY MAN

Four children under twelve and I piled into EarthMother—my blue car—to visit The Honey Man. We needed honey for our daily coffee, and for health reasons we prefer it locally made and harvested. I also like taking the kids on outings their parents might not think about doing. During the pandemic, we discovered we could buy honey just steps from the hives where bees do their work. Honey does not appear by accident.

Making honey is dangerous and time-consuming for both bees and beekeepers…just as the Honey Man. Worker bees face constant risk from humans as they gather nectar and carry it back to the hive. Then other bees add enzymes, store the nectar in the comb, and fan it until most of the water evaporates before sealing it with beeswax. Only then can the beekeeper harvest it. The process is ancient and straightforward, but it is far from easy.

That process feels like life to me. Living can be simple if we let it be but letting it be is the hard part. Life is a honeycomb filled with regret, flaws, shame, failure, joy, and success. Over time, if we are willing, we can draw lessons from it all and turn those experiences into something sweet enough to sustain us.

When people say I am sweet and easy to get along with, my husband and son often answer, “She is now, but she was not always this way. She has mellowed.” They are partly right. I have usually been easygoing, but my words—though honest—have sometimes been sharp. Time has slowed my tongue and taught it kindness I once overlooked. How truth is spoken matters as much as the truth itself.

Truth is like nectar gathered from blossoms. Before it is shared with others, it should be digested and refined.

My mother used to say, “You can say more in a moment than you can hem up (ever take back) in a lifetime.” Her words taught me to speak truth carefully. And sometimes, the truth I know is not mine to tell. Some truths are better left sealed in the honeycomb, preserved and untouched.

Life changes every day, whether we welcome it or not. What those changes become in me—honey or something else—is up to me. I think that is what my husband and son mean when they say, “She is now, but she was not always this way. She has mellowed.”

Proverbs 16:24

PONDER THIS THOUGHT---Bees know the risk of gathering nectar. Humans should know the risk of gathering the honey.