National Honey Day - Awareness of the little workers
When I work as Paranormal Sarah, it is not uncommon for me to ask my infamous question, "What is your favorite insect?" As an ode to my recently passed mentor, it's a way to always be doing psychology research and learn about those around me. An ice-breaker of sorts, a fun profiling trick and something that I identify with. Recently, an old childhood friend came to the surface of my life via social media and it has been wonderful to see the validation of her purpose. Someone who works in nature, understands divine connection, and shares the same photo every now and then on my personal timeline:
I have always loved bugs, and my gluttonous punishment for continued education will surely have me getting a degree in entomology. Their connection, their lessons, their beauty - so easily missed - is a reminder of PAYING ATTENTION.
Honeybees are a great example. The scientific illustrations of their purpose, their dancing language of divine connection to their surroundings, their ability to die for their cause; they are amazing creatures. Often seen as the mascot of Quantum physics, the bumblebee is said to aerodynamically defy the laws of nature. By it's size and mass, those little glass wings shouldn't be able to lift it through its tireless working day, flower to flower, back to the hive; but no one told the bee that. It does it anyway.
I see the honeybee often and I thank them for their hard work. My son's know that a bee will die and lose it's stinger if it chooses to sting you, and that would require a serious threat. If you love them, respect them, even 'thank them', they will always leave you bee. Watching them work in their hive is inspirational, their dedication to their queen and our kindred love for dancing keeps me close to the honeybee. It even has a place in my personal Tarot Deck.
They are a sign to me, as are many other insects. I have whole stories, neuropsychological processes that spark and spread through my mind like a positive wildfire of creative energy. Bugs, of all things, can get me talking. I watch them on social media, I gather and collect them, I show them off and teach my children, and we even celebrate their presence. Nerdy perhaps, but selfishly I do it for two reasons... well, maybe three.
One, it keeps the positive memories of my father alive in my mind. I don't live in Missouri anymore and I feel guilt for not being able to spend more time with my dad. So, mentally, I often think of him and send out positive energy to him. I remember the nights that we would spend in the garage together. The garage light outside was a huge, bright, beacon to the bugs for miles in every direction. The huge white garage doors were the perfect backdrop to analyze the bugs before collecting them into my jars and later perching them onto used Styrofoam. My dad even kept one of the old spiders I had made for him as a young girl. If I found something cool, something new, something with a story, I would go off skipping with excitement to my dad. He would look out from underneath this project, no matter how important (even mid-weld) and address me. If he didn't know, we would either explore it together or he would make something up. I had to let go of some anger from his constant exaggeration at one point in my life - Thank you BIG FISH.
Now, I collect bugs with my kids and grin ear to ear when papa Danny does the same with them. He tells the story of the Caterpillar's fur and it's correlation to a bold winter, the Lunar moth tales and how not to squish farty-stink bugs. My dad has no fear, and his curiosity for learning always outweighed risk. For that, I'm thankful. I want to keep that important lesson alive.
Second, is the fear my first son has of bugs. It is said in modern psychology, that humans are innately born with two inherent fears; falling and loud noise. Anything else, any other fear, is learned either through aversions or conditioning. Perhaps your mother is fearful of spiders so you jump at the sight of them. Other scientists have suggested the Darwinism in evolution and genetic predispositions to fear, such as the reason we seem to cross-culturally understand the fear of brightly colored animals or predators that might cause us harm. We're not an entirely dumb species, but why?
Genetic predispositions to fear or anxiety are shown through further genetic explorations (DNA activation and genocide, PTSD here) but other correlations exist as well. Some get us really thinking down the worm hole. However, I go back to my first born - at just a few months old having severe night terrors. I had night terrors as a child and was told to 'let them run their course.' So, as a parent, you watch helplessly as your child flails about in complete fear. Screaming, crying, body shaking, hysteria - and nothing you can do seems to wake them or remove the fear. It was a terrifying 'phase' that lasted until he was almost four years old and as he began to talk, he could explain their themes to us. One common theme, was the idea that bugs were crawling all over him. I cursed myself for perhaps having him seen an Indiana Jones scene out of the corner of his infant eye, but it was something far more in-depth. His responses, his deep-seeded fear was something that seemed to grow in his mind and his fantasies were far greater than a simple scene or even bad flash of a movie. The fear response had me exploring more and more of what it could be. After all, I wanted to share my love of bugs with my son. The more I tried, the more fear he had. He didn't want to learn about spiders, bugs, ants, butterflies - anything - until his little brother had an interest. His younger brother, a true-Harmon like his Papa Danny, has no fear. He picks up a bug and if he thinks it might sting him, he'll squish it so it doesn't get him first.
Brothers encourage each other in a way no one else can. It was an important bonding moment and lesson for me to learn.
Lastly, it could be my interest in keeping Dave Alexander and our theories on human personality alive. I love to expand my own cryptic knowledge of people and I'm always trying to learn. A true Nietzsche belief that it betters me, so I continue to write about it and think about it. It sparks my brain alive.
I have always loved bugs, and my gluttonous punishment for continued education will surely have me getting a degree in entomology. Their connection, their lessons, their beauty - so easily missed - is a reminder of PAYING ATTENTION.
Honeybees are a great example. The scientific illustrations of their purpose, their dancing language of divine connection to their surroundings, their ability to die for their cause; they are amazing creatures. Often seen as the mascot of Quantum physics, the bumblebee is said to aerodynamically defy the laws of nature. By it's size and mass, those little glass wings shouldn't be able to lift it through its tireless working day, flower to flower, back to the hive; but no one told the bee that. It does it anyway.
I see the honeybee often and I thank them for their hard work. My son's know that a bee will die and lose it's stinger if it chooses to sting you, and that would require a serious threat. If you love them, respect them, even 'thank them', they will always leave you bee. Watching them work in their hive is inspirational, their dedication to their queen and our kindred love for dancing keeps me close to the honeybee. It even has a place in my personal Tarot Deck.
They are a sign to me, as are many other insects. I have whole stories, neuropsychological processes that spark and spread through my mind like a positive wildfire of creative energy. Bugs, of all things, can get me talking. I watch them on social media, I gather and collect them, I show them off and teach my children, and we even celebrate their presence. Nerdy perhaps, but selfishly I do it for two reasons... well, maybe three.
One, it keeps the positive memories of my father alive in my mind. I don't live in Missouri anymore and I feel guilt for not being able to spend more time with my dad. So, mentally, I often think of him and send out positive energy to him. I remember the nights that we would spend in the garage together. The garage light outside was a huge, bright, beacon to the bugs for miles in every direction. The huge white garage doors were the perfect backdrop to analyze the bugs before collecting them into my jars and later perching them onto used Styrofoam. My dad even kept one of the old spiders I had made for him as a young girl. If I found something cool, something new, something with a story, I would go off skipping with excitement to my dad. He would look out from underneath this project, no matter how important (even mid-weld) and address me. If he didn't know, we would either explore it together or he would make something up. I had to let go of some anger from his constant exaggeration at one point in my life - Thank you BIG FISH.
Now, I collect bugs with my kids and grin ear to ear when papa Danny does the same with them. He tells the story of the Caterpillar's fur and it's correlation to a bold winter, the Lunar moth tales and how not to squish farty-stink bugs. My dad has no fear, and his curiosity for learning always outweighed risk. For that, I'm thankful. I want to keep that important lesson alive.
Second, is the fear my first son has of bugs. It is said in modern psychology, that humans are innately born with two inherent fears; falling and loud noise. Anything else, any other fear, is learned either through aversions or conditioning. Perhaps your mother is fearful of spiders so you jump at the sight of them. Other scientists have suggested the Darwinism in evolution and genetic predispositions to fear, such as the reason we seem to cross-culturally understand the fear of brightly colored animals or predators that might cause us harm. We're not an entirely dumb species, but why?
Genetic predispositions to fear or anxiety are shown through further genetic explorations (DNA activation and genocide, PTSD here) but other correlations exist as well. Some get us really thinking down the worm hole. However, I go back to my first born - at just a few months old having severe night terrors. I had night terrors as a child and was told to 'let them run their course.' So, as a parent, you watch helplessly as your child flails about in complete fear. Screaming, crying, body shaking, hysteria - and nothing you can do seems to wake them or remove the fear. It was a terrifying 'phase' that lasted until he was almost four years old and as he began to talk, he could explain their themes to us. One common theme, was the idea that bugs were crawling all over him. I cursed myself for perhaps having him seen an Indiana Jones scene out of the corner of his infant eye, but it was something far more in-depth. His responses, his deep-seeded fear was something that seemed to grow in his mind and his fantasies were far greater than a simple scene or even bad flash of a movie. The fear response had me exploring more and more of what it could be. After all, I wanted to share my love of bugs with my son. The more I tried, the more fear he had. He didn't want to learn about spiders, bugs, ants, butterflies - anything - until his little brother had an interest. His younger brother, a true-Harmon like his Papa Danny, has no fear. He picks up a bug and if he thinks it might sting him, he'll squish it so it doesn't get him first.
Brothers encourage each other in a way no one else can. It was an important bonding moment and lesson for me to learn.
Lastly, it could be my interest in keeping Dave Alexander and our theories on human personality alive. I love to expand my own cryptic knowledge of people and I'm always trying to learn. A true Nietzsche belief that it betters me, so I continue to write about it and think about it. It sparks my brain alive.
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