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Category: love (Page 1 of 5)

#55 – Mythical Creatures

It is special. I believe.

There are beautiful and thoughtful bookstores and small businesses sprinkled all over the world.

Every time I walk into one – I just know. It is….loved.

I have written before throughout these posts how much the Bee Hive nurtures me. We nurture each other. I am not the most unbiased judge of the store’s positive traits. Or, not so positive traits for that matter. But, I have beared witness on countless occasions over the years to people’s beautiful reactions upon entering the store for the first time. The books, the space, the light…Maybe they feel that it is loved. Maybe, they too, believe that it is special.

And, those reactions are based strictly on the physical aspect of the store. People who are visitors in town and just passing through don’t even get the full Bee Hive experience.

The community. The connections. The people. The people that there would be no Bee Hive without. The people who have shared their kids, their reading, the books they love and don’t love over the years. The people who come by to pick up a book and stay to catch up. The people who like the choices and recommendations and come by every time they need something new to read. The people who bring Valentines and holiday treats and share special photos and ask about my kids…every time. The people who are rooting for the specialness.

“I have beared witness on countless occasions over the years to people’s beautiful reactions upon entering the store for the first time…Maybe, they too, believe that it is special.”

The Bee Hive has stood proud, if somewhat shakily, for 12 years in the white house on the corner of Montezuma and Guadalupe. It is natural to assume that it will just be there the next time you drive by or next year when you need to buy gifts for your nephew.

I don’t know…

I mean life offers very few, if any, guarantees.

But, I do know that the Bee Hive is destined to become a mythical creature. Some day.

So. I think you should love it.

Not just as the place in the house on Montezuma that has been there since the kids in your life were small.

But as the destination that people come to from out of town. Because there is no place like it where they live.

Because it is special.

And…

It isn’t forever.

#54 – Unlocking

“Here is the truth about the seasons: Spring is May and June! What could be springier than May and June? Summer is July and August. Really hot, right? Autumn is September and October. See the pumpkins? Smell those burning leaves. Next comes the season called “Locking.” That is when Nature shuts everything down. November and December aren’t Winter. They’re Locking. Next comes Winter, January and February. Boy! Are they ever cold! What comes next? Not Spring. Unlocking comes next. What else could April be?”  — Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

This quote has been ringing in my head ever since I came across it. Though it is a wise perspective on the seasons, for sure (especially in crazy northern New Mexico)…it is the idea of locking and unlocking that grabbed me. And, hasn’t let go.

“Locking.” That is when Nature shuts everything down.” It is perfectly relevant to make a comparison here to the recent past years. But, it is also way too simplified.

Because, it doesn’t take a pandemic-enforced quarantine for us to fall into the natural flow of being human. Of having ‘seasons’ in which we lock down. And, those in which we then unfurl and angle our faces back into the light.

In fact, I wonder about whether the shutdown that we experienced – that, at the time, we had no say over – may sour the current civilization on something that is so necessary. So natural. So vital for our evolution as individuals and as a collective.

Just as nature needs a couple of months, according to Vonnegut, for locking every year – we too need moments or stretches of time – of solitude, restoration, reflection, and going inward. What we do with that time is personal. And, may need to happen in the midst of getting our kids to school and ourselves to work. Very few of us have our own private Waldens.

Regardless, there is no shame in the thirst for quiet…

Next comes the season called “Locking.” That is when Nature shuts everything down.

To be honest, though I didn’t know it at the time – the pandemic provided me with something I desperately needed. The space and time to lock.

I don’t think I will ever be as I was before that opportunity. Nor, would I want to be.

I do know – though its been a long season personally – that I am slowly…unlocking…For the moment. I am angling my face up to the light once again.

Recently, I was on a trip with my family in a city that was exuberant in its unlockedness. The locals drinking together in cafes and literally frolicking with one another in parks. The aliveness was palatable. Intoxicating. Inspiring.

I wonder, was the joy as large before? Did the universal locking provide us with the freshness to come back together again with a little less cynicism? And, maybe a bit more sweetness? And, genuine gratitude.

If there is no other reason to be locked for a moment – maybe the renewed appreciation for each other, and the world around us, once we unlock – is enough….

That is what happens with nature after all.

It gets quiet and dark. The quieter and darker it gets – the more vibrant and bright it becomes in its awakening. And, this is a continuous cycle.

I believe in the incredible importance to heed the call.

Whether it is to lock. Or, unlock.

We should pay attention…as if our lives depend on it.

The beautiful brilliance of the light is too good not to.

#53 – A Quiet Season

This year, for my family, has not been an easy one. We are just sort of riding a challenging wave. A wave we’ve been on for several months.

I believe we all ride these waves at some point. And, my people are made of strong stock. My Italian background is riddled with tragic and very sad tales (a large part of one side of my family’s last name is Saro). I am a little too optimistic of a person to believe I am destined for the same, but at times I have wondered…

Through this uphill climb, my family has spent a lot of time together, loving one another and snuggling in close. We watch a lot of Friends. We eat a lot of yummy homemade food, which is the catalyst for spending as much time as possible around the table talking about every little thing. There is always so much to talk about.

And, we all read A LOT.

While I pour most of my energy into my family – the Bee Hive has taken a bit of a backseat. My focus is honed in elsewhere – thus the no events or book clubs or writing workshops or blog posts, etc. The spaciousness for creativity is limited.

I spend a lot of time feeling bad about this. I look at Instagram posts of other bookstores and all that they are doing and all that they offer their communities and I feel like a total failure. And, like the Bee Hive has slid into mediocrity.

“We will forever sit around the table and talk.
And, we will always turn to books for comfort.”

And, yet…this is where things are.

Despite the lack of offerings at the moment, I am very grateful for the opportunity to be able to possibly extend some comfort to my community, and beyond, through books. Because, either collectively or individually, we all are always going through something. And, whether it is by people coming into the store and something jumping off the shelf for them that is exactly what they need. Or, customers using the website to order books of whatever genre they are looking for. I am very aware that the books people choose and what they read is incredibly personal and private. And, I am extremely honored to be trusted with the information that other people are taking in at any given moment. And, of course, so appreciative that they support the Bee Hive with their book orders. Especially those that might be easier to just have arrive at their front door.

As far as the waves go…it is necessary to remember that you can’t ride the same one forever.

This particular one my family is on, while painful, has also been beautiful in that we have grown very strong. And, close. We laugh deeply – and with appreciation – at the ridiculous, ironic, and hysterical. We will forever sit around the table and talk. And, we will always turn to books for comfort. And, probably, also…Friends.

While this cycle may be a less outgoing one, there is a more creative, bustling one on the horizon.

The Bee Hive, as its own entity, stands patient. As long as it is filled with books and people come in and out of it – it is, for the most part, doing its job.

I work to take cues from that contentment.

And, I look forward to the inspired and focused energy and creativity that the next wave is sure to bring.

 

#51 – Making Space

Last fall, when things were looking up – I got really excited about experiences. I got super focused on making plans. I was so ready to make up for the last year and a half of our very limited cocoon. The one that was squashing my breathing. Cramping my social life. And, depriving me from the option of drinking wine on the Amalfi Coast or tea in Kyoto….(because, you know, these are places I went on a regular basis before...)

I jumped on tickets to take my daughter to see Hamilton.

I planned a spring trip to Paris – my most favorite place on the planet – with airplane tickets that are burning a hole in my pocket from a family trip that was canceled the summer of 2020.

I started planning and plotting the return of the Bee Hive book club and other events related to all the new inventory in the store.

I warmed up to the idea of safely enjoying margaritas out with friends.

I was just so giddy. With anticipation.

Relief.

The idea of…breathing room.

Right.

It doesn’t seem necessary for me to go into where all these plans are now – a few months later.

 

—————

 

Something that I have to mindfully do on a regular basis – in this moment – is to create space. With deep breaths. You know – when I get an email that either Olive or Cash is a close contact, or one of them has a stuffy nose, or the Bee Hive’s or my home’s walls or Santa Fe seem to be closing in on me. Or – there is another snow day…(really?)

Deep breaths.

Closing my eyes in silence a little bit longer with each day.

Reading, reading, reading.

About far away places…

and crazy people – who aren’t me.

Transporting myself – through movies – to cities and islands, and glamorous situations.

And, more closed eye silence.

A LOT of yoga.

I mean – seriously – I am on the path to possibly becoming a frickin’ monk. (With all due respect.)

Right now, for me, it is the only path.

The alternative would be the whiskey path. Never a good idea.

I am not going to lie. I have not arrived to monk-dom yet. There are definitely moments when I feel I might go crazy. Or, perhaps – am going crazy?

The feeling of not having a handle on anything for so long – has taken a toll.

But I feel this moment is an excellent opportunity to exercise the ability to alter the space around us. And, that space could literally be what the cut-out of our bodies would be.

Currently, one of my mini transports has been Beijing by way of watching the Winter Olympics. I have found watching the athletes visualize their courses beforehand so fascinating. Their bodies and heads bobbing as they literally perform their route or routine in their head, seeing…feeling…their perfect outcome. And – from what I have witnessed – then going on to successfully nail their event.

…that space could literally be what the cut-out of our bodies would be.

I don’t think I have ever been very good at visualization.

But, this morning as I was walking to the Bee Hive from my car – the sun felt so warm. The warmest I have felt in a while. The last couple of days – have challenged my space-making and pushed me more towards the crazy edge. But…the warmth…I took a deep breath, really felt the sun on my face – and, for a few seconds – I was no longer on Montezuma Avenue, but on the beach.

Truly.

Early morning beach. Warm sun. Waves gently rolling in and out. The sand slightly wet. Very few people.

And…that moment was exactly what I needed. To move away from the crazy edge and closer to the space-making edge.

The place of presence.

And, peace.

And – I got excited. To go to the beach. The one I have to physically travel to. Or, the one I will visit again the next time I feel the warmth of the sun on my face. Either way – I know it is there for me.

It is so easy to get caught up in a swirl of yuckiness. We have every right to. And, every opportunity.

But – it is possible – to take a minute.

Take a deep breath.

Make some space.

And, be somewhere else…

#50 – Healing The Future

Was 2021 better than 2020?

Often times, when we hold years up to one another in comparison, we are pretty clear on which were good ones and which were maybe not so good.

Right now though it doesn’t feel so much like time is passing in its usual linear way, separated so specifically by the arbitrary lines in the sand of months and years; but rather that we are in the midst of an experience that blurs lines of the usual markers. So, for instance, when we wake up on January 1, 2022 – it may be a new calendar year – but, we will still be in the middle of the same story. The one that’s been being told for the last several months, or, for this moment of time.

There are many threads that run through this moment – collectively and individually.

One of the collective threads, that actually proceeds this moment, doesn’t just taint this block of time, but, is crucial to our future. Everyone’s future. Everywhere.

Dr. Vivek H. Murthy, the United States surgeon general, has recently released a 53-page report warning of our youth’s mental health crisis.

As stated in The New York Times:

The report cited significant increases in self-reports of depression and anxiety along with more emergency room visits for mental health issues. In the United States, emergency room visits for suicide attempts rose 51 percent for adolescent girls in early 2021 as compared to the same period in 2019. The figure rose 4 percent for boys.

Though there are potentially many attributes that have gotten us to this point – social media, screen time, the fact that progress in improving climate change, racial injustice, income inequality is terribly slow – the point of the report is that we need more people out there dedicated to finding the answers to exactly why our kids are suffering so profoundly.

What does appear to be one consistency is the feeling of loneliness reported by our kids.

The New York Times:

The current generation of adolescents express heightened levels of loneliness — more than any other age group — despite spending countless hours connected over media.

The thing is – these kids – our kids – are the fiercest tools we’ve got.

They are our future.

They are the ones to save this planet. Produce real and lasting change with racial and social relations. Create ways forward for improving financial equality and the stopping of gun violence.

We need them. More than we’ve probably ever needed a rising generation before.

Leaving them to their devices has clearly had devastating effects.

We have got to do better by our beautiful kids.

Media and pop culture are beating the hell out of this young generation’s feelings of self worth. Rather, shouldn’t we be rising them up? Empowering them and supporting them to become the badasses we so desperately need them to grow into?

We don’t know when this moment will be over.

But, we can’t let it get the best of us.

We certainly don’t have the option to allow it to continue to get the best of our kids.

At this point it seems that rather then assuming our kids are okay – we should probably assume that they are not.

And that we need to…

nurture, encourage, engage, validate, nourish, praise, and love the heck out of them.

See them.

Hear them.

Handle and care for them like the precious commodity that they are.

We have got to heal them.

Soon enough, the power will be all theirs.

We have got to groom them to become the super heroes we are going to need them to be.

 

 

 

#49 – Virginia Woolf, George Jones, and Green Chile

I am not sure why, but somehow, when I was in college – I was very aware of the need to milk the experience in every way I could. Someone, somewhere, said to me at some point – this is your opportunity to spend time learning and studying about whatever you want. This is a block of time – such as you will probably never have again.

I heard it. And, I took it to heart.

In every way.

After, starting out at a small, private, liberal arts school – which is what I thought I was supposed to do. I ended up transferring to University of New Mexico – long story, but in a few words: Albuquerque on a summer road trip with my sister, spotted a cute Native American guy riding a bike on UNM campus. At the time, that was all it took…Well, the cute guy and…the clouds in the ocean-like sky of which I had never seen the likes of before…

Randomly moving to Albuquerque, New Mexico (I am a Los Angeles native by way of New York-transplant parents) sort of clicked everything into place for me. I worked at a coffee shop – the one right across from campus where all the cool kids hung out at. And, fairly quickly, became a part of a web-like community full of an eclectic mix of artists, musicians, grad students, and college graduates.

I opted out of a BA in English for a BA in University Studies – meaning, instead of, as I saw it, wasting my time on science and math and other subjects that I would have been required to take for a degree in English (and were difficult for me because of my pretty severe dyslexia) – I could choose what I wanted to take, as long as I met the credit requirements. So, I took every literature course I could – along with film and some art and music history. I read, discussed, and wrote – one semester, 25 papers – my way through college.

All the reading and writing and discussing of books that I did during that time was definitely happening in tandem with a life full of, and rich with – music.

I fell, fast and hard, in love with a drummer – actually, an extremely intelligent guy with multiple degrees. But, his amazing record collection and the full drum kit in our living room was an added bonus.

*Abundant live music, dance parties, strumming George Jones songs on the back porch, and green chile-laden potlucks and camping trips inevitably breaking out into jam sessions were very regular events, I think, we all took for granted.

“I took every literature course I could…I read, discussed, and wrote – one semester, 25 papers – my way through college.”

For me, the words and thoughts of Virginia Woolf, Flannery O’Connor, James Joyce, and Mark Twain – were infused with the lyrics and sounds of Liz Phair, Juliana Hatfield, Yo La Tengo – and, Coltrane, Mingus, and Parker. My mind and perspective were expanded – equally – by both.

Life definitely followed a cycle of long, oppressively-hot Albuquerque summer days; moody, chile-smoked fall evenings; and cheap, poorly heated structures-cold winters…

Still.

It was stretching. It was freedom. It was community. All to a constantly revolving stellar soundtrack.

Such a specific moment…Rather than as much time as possible on screens – we spent as little time as possible. It was all about in real life connection. We all worked really hard in whatever we were striving toward, but – then we would come together…

Those four years profoundly shaped who I am, at the core.

That time is my point of context for my priorities, my values, my desires, my parenting, my perspective, my cultural and artistic sensibilities…

It was luxurious in that I lived so simply – yet so fully. With curiosity. And passion. Love. And, focus on satiating my hunger for learning.

There have been times since then when I have wondered what my twenty-three year old self would think of my life. Would she be proud? Disappointed? Ashamed? Underwhelmed? Overwhelmed?

I feel there have been moments that would cause her to cringe. In fact I have been very aware of such moments.

But, I do feel that perhaps I have gotten to a window where she would think I was okay.

I feel that the recent transformation of the Bee Hive is an opportunity to make my younger, clear-eyed, less-muddled self proud.

She would be excited, I think, about being the owner of an independent, community-based book store. Surrounded by books by ridiculously impressive women writers, thinkers, researchers, and change-makers. She would be proud to run a business that works hard every day to nurture community and connection. She would be into being around cool kids – of every age – on a regular basis. And, I think, she would think the Bee Hive playlists aren’t bad.

That moment…

We were all working so hard to be able to go on to whatever was ahead.

But, really, we had it all.

I mean other then the gorgeous and amazing offspring that has since transpired…

We had what people sometimes search their whole lives for without ever finding.

Living fully in the moment. Surrounded by opportunities to learn, grow, and create. Music around every corner. And, people – to love, support, debate, bounce ideas off of, and connect with on a daily basis.

And…mucho green chile.

 

 

 

 

 

*Other then the incredibly rich local music scene, Albuquerque, at the time, was the stop over between Texas and California for many touring bands. EVERYONE played in Albuquerque’s, mostly small, venues. There were typically so many live shows in the Fall, that we used to refer to October as Rock-tober.

#48 – Call Me…If You Get Lost

As I have sort of been readjusting my eyes back to the light after the last several months and gaining perspective on…so much…One of the biggest things that is glaring to me – is the state of our kids. Not just the little kids who struggled through remote learning and being away from their friends – though that certainly was heinous. But, our big kids…

Anyone who has been through adolescence knows, firsthand, that it is no joke. There are endless landmines to dodge and weave your way through. The issues come fast and furious: family, racial, financial, sexuality, self-esteem, academic pressures, peer pressures, societal pressures, and, often, where you will get your next meal or sleep that night. This is content that fills many, many middle grade and YA books. Except – this stuff doesn’t just live in books.

It has become a rare conversation with people with kids that isn’t about some sort of concern or challenge that their kids are having. Depression, confusion, anger, family problems, addiction…

The kids in my own family – both my children and close relatives – in the past few months, have experienced very real painful experiences that have sent them on gut-wrenching emotional roller coasters. They are incredibly fortunate to have counselors on speed dial, if they need it, but youth mental health is in such a precarious state at the moment, that child therapists have become impossible to nail down.

According to Mental Health American (the leading non-profit in this country dedicated to addressing mental health issues);

Young people are struggling most with their mental health. The proportion of youth ages 11-17 who accessed screening was 9 percent higher than the average in 2019. Not only are the number of youth searching for help with their mental health increasing, but throughout the COVID-19 pandemic youth ages 11-17 have been more likely than any other age group to score for moderate to severe symptoms of anxiety and depression.

9.7% of youth in our country have severe Major Depression. 60% of youth with depression do not receive treatment.

It has become a rare conversation with people with kids that isn’t about some sort of concern or challenge that their kids are having. Depression, confusion, anger, family problems, addiction…

This is a state of emergency – one that can not be glossed over. Or, turned away from.

Most nights when I am making dinner – Olive always asks what she can do to help. Recently, Cash has also started offering his assistance. I am often rushing, trying just to get dinner on the table for my two hungry kids, that I usually answer – Thank you – I will let you know… Cash’s response lately has been, “Ok, just call me if you get lost.”

Yes.

Call me

If you get lost…

Would it be helpful to just let our kids know that if they get lost, or are feeling lost – that they can call us?

That we have their backs?

That they don’t have to be lost – alone?

I am no mental health professional. Not even close. But, I have experienced that obstacle course that is adolescence. And, I can say that growing up, I most definitely did not feel seen by the grown ups in my life. I had great, close friends – but, I can’t help but wonder if the support of grown ups could have eased the loneliness and confusion that I inevitably went through.

I know the other day, when Cash had tears welling up and was super anxious over something that he had to face – when I looked into his eyes and said, “Hey, I have your back”, the fear in his eyes melted a little, and he mustered up the strength to go forward.

Feeling that you are not alone, should you get lost, goes a long, long way.

For all humans.

I think we are all hopeful that once our kids are back to in-person school full-time, with their people, doing the things they love again on a regular basis – that the issues that result in anxiety, depression, uncertainty, confusion, etc, etc – will mellow out and we can go back to “normal”.

But should we consider whether the state of emergency that our kids are in, manifested before or during the pandemic? Whether, perhaps, the calls were dimmed by all the “normalcy” – and, then when things got quiet – the calls got really really LOUD…

It may be impossible to know. And, generalizations ridiculous to make. At least by a book store owner who is just speculating in a blog post.

Regardless – “normal”, pandemic, or otherwise,

it may be worth – on a very regular basis – reminding  our beautiful, hurting kids to,

Call us…

If they get lost.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#47 – The Space In-Between

The last couple of months have rendered me speechless…And sort of – frozen. In this in-between space of…PTSD. And…a desire to go forward.

Somehow the world went from being shut down and living in fear. To – kids not wearing masks at birthday parties and grown ups not wearing masks while shopping at Trader Joe’s. In just a matter of weeks.

The extreme pivot has left me dizzy. Kinda confused. And…100% unprepared.

My family is still living with the residue of Covid. Very few summer plans. A short break due to Public Schools going back early. And mask-wearing in solidarity with my son, who is too young yet to be vaccinated.

The Bee Hive is also in the thick of the residue. The store hours are shortened due to not being be up to speed with employees yet, events are still on hold, and masks are required in order to keep our young customers safe.

It is really easy to feel the pressure of going back to the way it was.

Like – right now.

And yet…

There is the PTSD.

Truly.

Aren’t you exhausted?

I am.

Totally.

And, Olive and Cash have slowed way down. They need their down time for sure. They are pretty content with a day at home – a movie, yummy food, a walk – they are good. No need to pack their days at the moment.

Honestly, rather then going toward social situations or reverting back to any sort of manic, over-scheduling ways – I am feeling the need to take it slow. Allow the experience of the past year to sink in. And then – process it. And then – figure out how I want things to shake out from there. Perhaps there is a path where the pre-Pandemic, mid-Pandemic, and post-Pandemic moments – can morph into something new, and manageable.

Perhaps quality of life can be made a priority. Rather then an afterthought.

I have written in past posts that I don’t think the Bee Hive will ever be the same as it was. And, that is true. At this moment, it is more beautiful, more resilient, more inclusive, more community sustained – then it ever has been. The Bee Hive has come out shinier and more abundant from all that transpired in 2020. For a lot of reasons.

“At this moment, the Bee Hive is more beautiful, more resilient, more inclusive, more community sustained – then it ever has been.”

The last several months was the savior that Bee Hive so desperately needed…

I do have people turn away from coming into the store when they see the mask signs in the windows.

I would love to burn my masks too.

But…it continues to be the reality of the Bee Hive for now. And, for the foreseeable future.

And – it really is okay. If people turn away.

Because, just like you.

And me.

The Bee Hive made it through. And, will continue to do so.

At its own pace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

#46 – Transitions

It won’t be the same again. I mean – it could, maybe some day, potentially, feel like it did before.

But.

It won’t…

ever be the same again.

What we all have been through, this past year, it is more weighty then – just – bouncing back. As if – nothing ever happened.

Yes, we will probably go to movies and out to dinner and over to other people’s houses again. Eventually.

But.

I feel – changed. I feel the Bee Hive is – changed. I feel the community around Bee Hive – is changed.

And, I want to honor that.

I can’t say that I am not fearful – to open the doors again – to the public. To put myself and my family and the Bee Hive in that vulnerable position.

And, honestly, I have no idea when that will happen.

With out of town visitors sure to start rushing in again. I am weary. And gun-shy. And, in no hurry.

As with most, my kids have been in the situation of being home for the past year. It has taken an almost ridiculous sort of juggle (as so many parents have experienced) – running the Bee Hive while tending to Cash and Olive’s emotional, academic, and psychological health at the same time. Unfortunately, I have not quite honed my superhero powers enough to succeed at fulfilling the need and desire to be in two places at once. Yet, Olive and Cash always trump everything else. And I wonder how and when that complicated juggle may subside. Just a little.

But, I have had a lot of time. Alone in the Bee Hive. To think. Mull over. And, really form in which direction I want it be of service in its next phase. How to make the most of this opportunity at a rebirth.

What’s come out of the lengthy process of mulling – is a sort of reflection of the journey this last year has taken me on personally.

“I have had a lot of time. Alone in the Bee Hive. To think. Mull over….How to make the most of this opportunity at a rebirth.”

Lots of cooking. Lots of time at home. A desire to improve on who I am – mind and spirit. A desire to improve on how I am in this world. A desire to read women writers – fiction, poetry, memoirs. A desire to experience other places. A desire to stay well – both physically and emotionally. Robustly so.

A desire…for the Bee Hive to serve a more diverse crowd.

And so –  I have been ordering books. Not just a few here and there.

But, hundreds of new titles for Bee Hive.

Women’s fiction. Lots and lots of fiction by women writers of all kinds. As well as poetry and memoirs. Non-fiction by scientists, social activists, and politicians.

Gorgeous books about food – cooking it and growing it. And, mixing a mean cocktail.

Books that show other people’s homes. In all sorts of lovely, amazing settings.

Books about self-improvement and wellness.

And, because customers have been asking me for years – just more grown up books – male authors included! – in general.

So fun!

And super scary.

There have been no kids books sacrificed in this process – I swear.

In fact, in the midst of my shifting and recreating – my ten-year-old son came in the store, he looked around, and said in awe, “It looks like Christmas morning…”

So – I believe – it is kid-approved.

And, I hope – very much grown up approved.

It is not the pre-pandemic Bee Hive. All the toys and puzzles and the beanbag chair are gone. I am not sure how they could not be.

At this moment in time – I can’t imagine another story time as of before: small space, lots of kids and parents touching books, each other, and sharing instruments and scarfs.

But – something else – something that feels safe and comfortable and appropriate will take the place when the time is right…

And, I am hopeful, that there will be other events on offer to serve a broader audience. And, perhaps, help recreate connection among us that have been starving for it – for each other, for way too long.

My thought is perhaps an oasis can be provided.

Well, that’s the idea, anyway.

Both in a carefully thought-out selection of books.

And, in those that they bring together…

In the meantime – this transition – not just between the past, present, and future of Bee Hive, but also the bridge between a world of people getting sick – and safety – is challenging. And, uncharted. And, uncertain. And, I feel, needs to be taken incredibly seriously.

So, the Bee Hive’s timeline is…day by day.

I promise though – things are on the way to being bright and shiny. And different. And, I hope, in the process of becoming better than before.

Because…

You all deserve better than before.

XOX

#45 – Lessons of 2020

I think, at this point, the world is exhausted of this year. And, truly – logistically, it is time to bid it farewell. Just about 366 days – lived and gone. A fresh set of days, weeks, and months – waiting in the wings. For better or for worse. But, I feel it is safe to say – we would all love for the this new block of time, to be for the better…

As with most – this year kicked my butt, for sure. But, it also showed me, taught me – so much. How to convert a brick and mortar book store into an online book distribution center, for one. How to never assume I can run said book distribution center alone during the holidays – even during a Pandemic, is another really big one. Who my people are. Both the Bee Hive’s beautiful tried and true; and in my personal life – those that consistently showed up for me – even if sometimes I’ve been too crazy or pooped to show up for them. How amazing, resilient,and delightful Cash and Olive are. But, even for all their amazing-ness, resilience, and delightful-ness – they still absolutely need their people, their friends, their tribe. And, that without that – 10-year-olds get really sad.

I have been given a screeching-loud wake up call about how my lack of action and speaking out made me complicit in the despicable state of Race Relations in this country. I have been taking a hard look at my own tendencies and it is a long-overdue slap in the face for me. One that, I hope, will stay with me, and keep me mindful, conscious, and present about something that I just can not and will not tolerate in myself.  

One night of continuously texting photos to a friend and professional bread-baker, taught me a much needed lesson about the importance of hydration in bread baking. His patience and insistence – more, more, more – made it finally click for me after many, many years of cooking and baking – that there is no such thing as too much moisture in dough. It has transformed my life! And my baking! Not just my bread, but pizza dough, cinnamon rolls, pie crusts – are so much better. I continue to work on my bread, because it has provided a source of great yumminess and comfort for my family this year, but also, because of Covid and my friend needing to be extra careful – he hasn’t tasted my bread yet. And, when he finally does – I want him to see – I was paying attention during those late night tutorials.

As with most – this year kicked my butt, for sure. But, it also showed me, taught me – so much.

My daughter has been learning Latin this year. And, it turns out, has quite an ear for it. Cash and I, sort of, have been learning alongside her as she teaches us with her very drawn out, slow pronunciations. I am now referred to as mater and Cash is referred to as fraterculus. One particularly memorable afternoon, as the three of us sat around the kitchen table drinking tea – Olive brought out her Latin workbook and taught us all sorts of very important words – like tunic and wax tablet and writing plume. I was delighted to learn some Latin! I asked Olive – what about How are you? or Good afternoon? Yeah – nope. Nothing like that. Right! I learned – by way of my very bright daughter – what a dead language truly means. And that sometimes, tunics and waxed tablets are all you really need…

This was a year that really reminded me – drilled into me, really – the importance of books and movies and music. Movies for entertainment (thank god) and escapism. Books – for me, who spends my days surrounded by all things books, it was a year that reaquainted me with actually reading. I’ve craved it. I can’t get enough. During a time when I have been often exhausted, and sometimes a tad depressed – stories and characters, truly in the thick of the human experience, have been the only place I wanted to be. Books have always been company for my deeply introverted nature – so validating and soothing. This year, that’s been magnified by 100%. And, I think, probably saved me from going down any really dark hole. Music, for me has been a total distraction. I can not stop looking for the perfect song for whatever playlist I happen to be working on – and there have been many. Music has been complete poetry for me. And, a much needed balm.

The lessons haven’t been all bad.

But they haven’t been all welcome.

The day after Christmas, I got word that one of the most wonderful people I have ever known, passed away that morning. I immediately sunk to my kitchen floor and wept. And, I couldn’t stop. As I grieved in a way that actually surprised me in its depth – it occurred to me, that I was just one of many many many many people who have experienced the loss, the injustice, the confusion, the disorientation of all that this year has taken…stolen. In that moment I was profoundly moved by how few have been untouched by 2020’s long-reaching tentacles of death and pain, heartache and suffering.

It has been enough – I think.

Enough lessons.

Hopefully, this new year – this new block of time – will be a little less about lessons. And, instead, move us closer to living again.

 

 

 

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