Bees and the likelihood of winning a Pulitzier

I got swarmed by bees today. Any ordinary person would've let this story go, perhaps tucking it away inside their memory decks as a funny anecdote over drinks or brunch, but I, with my over-analytical self, found it serendipitous. Well, sort of.
I was sitting alone under a tree on campus gathering my "writer" thoughts as I poured soy sauce over my sushi rolls. A story came and almost went. I desperately searched for a napkin, a piece of paper, anything to pull the story out of my head. But when I couldn't find anything, I found the pouring of soy sauce redemptive. The promise of a Pulitzer prize winning piece lurked within the dark liquid that soon covered the food, browning the rice, drowning my annoyance. Although my actions were mundane, it was somewhat meditative, soothing even. I was still trying to lay out a plot when I saw the first bee. I thought nothing of it at first, shrugging at the audacity of a stray bee. But then another one came, then another, and another. Eventually I got up, slow at first, trying not to panic. Was this real or a figment of my buzzing imagination? In a matter of seconds my food was covered by them. Gigantic brown bees with swollen bellies. I fled. My life is worth more than $15 of raw fish.

But really now...How many people get swarmed by bees on their first day of school, an event which is supposed to mark the beginning of a new chapter? More importantly, how many people get swarmed as they contemplate plots to their stories while pouring soy sauce all over their sushi rolls? My mother says it's luck and money (but really...do I look like Alice Walker or Elizabeth Gilbert?), others say it's prosperity and hope (hmm...writer and prosperity seem like a trick combination in the analogy section of the GRE's). Hope sounds more like it. "The next story is gonna be a winner!" A friend exclaimed excitedly as I told her what happened with the bees.

In many different cultures bees are a symbol of hope and diligence. Once upon a time bees and their honey were regarded as inspirational for the poets and even philosophers like Plato. The belief was that the gods sent bees to the lips of those whom they inspired.

So, does this mean that the gods sent those bees to inspire the story which was lodged inside my head like hardened stool? On my way home on the train the story finally came loose, relieving me of my frustration. However, my gratitude (echoed by loud hunger pangs in the middle of my first workshop of the semester) didn't come from the questionable fact of my creative anointment, but from the fact that by the grace of God, Allah, Yahweh, Jehovah, and other names the supreme being, ruler of the universe has been called, I wasn't stung.

Nicole © 2010

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