When I opened the Bee Hive in 2011 – my eyes were wide – shut. I had no idea what I was doing. Or what cards I was holding as far as what I was facing with transitions in commerce; transitions in the neighborhood; transitions in the world… I was blindly gambling.

I would like to say that had my eyes been wide open and the gamble not so blind – I probably wouldn’t have done it. Just to sound like I am somewhat of a reasonable person. And I do consider myself a reasonable person. But, truthfully, I am a pretty mystical person as well. And in this particular case, I think its necessary to tap into my mystical tendencies. Had the situation of my knowledge about what I was getting into, when I opened the Bee Hive, been any different then what it was; then most likely – there would have been no Bee Hive. So I choose to look at my lack of knowledge as a mystical set-up. It was a necessity. Or else the Bee Hive would not have been conceived at all…

I can’t really describe the focus and determination that has gone into keeping the Bee Hive afloat. And, honestly, the experience of it starting to go under feels a lot like drowning – that sensation of not having enough oxygen and being suddenly out of control – gasping for air, for light, for buoyancy. And yet, the idea of another small, community-oriented business going away at this moment in time – just doesn’t seem like an okay option. For me. Thus, the continued determination.

Except that last year Bee Hive experienced such a downturn in business, that I found myself using my personal savings – to cover expenses. As a single mother with very limited resources – regardless of my determination – I realized that trying to keep the Bee Hive afloat – as it has been – by myself – is impossible. And not at all smart.

“And, honestly, the experience of it starting to go under feels a lot like drowning – that sensation of not having enough oxygen and being suddenly out of control – gasping for air, for light, for buoyancy.”

I was at a  holiday gathering speaking with an old friend about the state of the Bee Hive. She described how she thought that small community-oriented businesses, such as the Bee Hive, should be supported by the community – like non-profits. It got me thinking…Maybe, I don’t have to do this on my own. Maybe, turning the Bee Hive into a non-profit (officially) could be an option. Maybe, in the meantime, I could reach out to the amazing community that enjoys the connection that Bee Hive fosters through story times, book clubs, writing workshops, and just through coming in the store – and ask for help.

So not easy.

But, with a holiday season at an all-time low and January – the quietest month of the year – looming. I felt that I had no choice. If I wanted to try to keep the Bee Hive from drowning. I had to ask for help.

One morning a couple of weeks ago, my daughter, Olive, told me she cried herself to sleep the night before.

“Why, honey?” I asked.

“Because I am afraid the Bee Hive is going to close.”

Oh man.

I can handle a lot. Except, letting my kids down.

And, what about all of Bee Hive’s kids?

No way.

Is it ridiculous to think that, I, an independent business owner of a very small kids’ book store in a small town, can continue to go up against all the challenges and very dominating powers that be?

Maybe.

But, I am not ready to give up yet. And let Bee Hive’s kids down. I do have some financial ground to make up for.  But, I also have some smart people to help me figure out what next steps would be best, in order to keep the Bee Hive sustainable.

And, there is the mystical element at play. The fact that the Bee Hive is supposed to be in existence.

And, maybe, we can all be in this together.

Because, I believe, we need to stay connected. As a community. As humans. As book and story-lovers. And kid-lovers. And Santa Fe-lovers.

We gotta hold on.

 

https://www.gofundme.com/7mkwec-bee-hive