The other day, I exited my car and a Honey Bee came seemingly out of nowhere, flew towards me, hovered for a split-second, and landed on my shirt. On my stomach area to be more precise. At first, I thought she mistook my bright Aloha shirt for a giant flower.

Upon closer inspection, she stayed still. She looked exhausted.

I stood there for awhile in the burning Sun to see if she would revive or fly away. She just clung to me.

I recently have had flying insects of all sorts buzz me, and land on me. I always took it as a sign. I even recently had a common house fly enter my office door and make a beeline to me, landing on the knuckles of my left hand while I typed on the computer. Just hanging out and seemingly unconcerned by my hand movements as I typed. 

In case you are wondering, my hands were clean and didn't have food on them. And no, my butt didn't smell either. Flies are a sign for me of a Beloved Uncle who passed away. Also, a powerful sign regarding the Spirit World. Of the voyager Pa'ao and his canoe, Ka-nalo-a-muia. The swarming of the flies. Of the anger, rage, ego and pride that made Pa'ao slice open the stomach of his own son to refute the allegations of his brother, Lonopele, about who was eating the ceremonial foods. The same rage that caused Pa'ao to slay his brother's son as well. The swarming of the flies on the corpses.

It also was a sign of Kanaloa, and the redemption that Pa'ao sought from this ocean akua one overcast afternoon at Kualoa during a special ceremony. For Pa'ao let the people of Hawai'i believe his voyaging canoe wasn't "Ka-nalo-a-muia" but "Kanaloa-muia" instead. This ultimately led to the Missionaries casting Kāne, Lono and Kū into the Holy Trinity Roles, and Kanaloa into the Underworld and into the role of the kepalō. This wasn't Pono. Kanaloa forgave Pa'ao and dunked his head underneath the ocean waters repeatedly, in what, surprisingly, resembled a sort of Baptism.

Back to my Beautiful bee. I stood there for quite awhile and without her budging, I decided to walk towards some bushes and see if she would crawl onto a leaf and rest there. I really needed to get back to work and didn't think bringing a bee into my office would be good for me, or her, or my co-workers.

I made it over to some large ti-leaves and tried to get her to crawl onto the leaves. She wouldn't budge. I figured that I would just let her stay on me and go about my business.

I then thought that maybe she was dying. She didn't look all beat up with shredded wings like I had seen so many of her sisters in the past, working themselves to death. 

I walked over to a hibiscus plant and helped her crawl onto the pollen-filled stamen. I thought it would be a familiar and fragrant place for her to leave this Earth. She slowly crawled onto the stamen with much effort. Then she convulsed and fell down through the bush, landing on a solitary brown cupped leaf that had also fallen at some point in its own death. 

She was cradled by the dead leaf, halfway down the bush. I then picked her up. I was always apprehensive about bee stings since I had some bad experiences with bees and wasps when I was younger, but I trusted her. Besides, I was a big boy and could survive a sting in her death throes. 

She never stung me however. I thought it was important to hold her, if she was going to die. To not leave this World alone. To leave this World knowing someone cared about, and Loved, you. 

I gently placed her on the hibiscus stamen again and held her there, trying to get her to climb back on. To my surprise, she mysteriously revived and flew out of my hand and up into the sky, with renewed vigor, until I lost sight of her. It made my Heart bloom. 

It was a Beautiful reminder for me about Pu'uhonua. About Places of Refuge. Safe Havens. About not only places being a Pu'uhonua, but people too. Being a Refuge for others. Of Love. Of Acceptance. Of Non-Judgment. Of Healing Presence. Something I needed the reminder of that day as I have been besieged and overwhelmed by turmoil lately.

It refocused me. It reminded me. It reinvigorated me.

This morning, when I sat down at my computer at work, the loud clicking of my mo'o companion somewhere above me, in my ceiling, sounded out loud and clear in four distinct clicks. My grandmother's affirmation. The four akua. The four clicks.

Just as that day at Kualoa, when after the ceremony, three large sea birds shot out of the bushes next to us, noisily, startling us, such that we couldn't miss them. And as they flew in unison and formation across the sea, almost touching the tips of the ocean waves, a fourth bird noisily shot out of the same bush. We watched the fourth bird eventually catch up with the other three, and the four of them flew off into the Horizon together. 

We were all astonished. It was indeed Kanaloa. Rejoining the other three akua. Once again. 

And there above the Powerful Heavenly peak of Kānehō'ālani, of the Majestic Ko'olau, as the Setting Sun created a Beautiful crepuscular beam of light, breaking through the clouds, in a Stairway to Heaven, there stood Papa and Wākea at the apex of the mountain range. For a brief moment, in the origins of the beam. Until they faded away. As tears cascaded and poured forth, in humble gratitude, by all of us present.

Thank you my Beautiful Little Bee. Humbled and Grateful that you Lived to see Another Day. And I as well. Love you...  


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