Bee

Throughout the first half of July 2005, I had a few seemingly unrelated experiences that seemed to warrant documentation. Take these for what they are worth. I’m not 100% sure I know where I’m going with this, but I think I like it (all of these are true).

Situation #1 – It was a Tuesday morning and I had just gotten on the employee shuttle bus at Geisinger. A few ladies (whom I didn’t know) got on the bus with me and we all sat in our own seats. I sat near the front, perhaps three seats in, on the right side. Two of the ladies sat on the left side, while one lady sat in front of me.

It was a warm day, and some of the windows were open. As we pulled away from the first bus stop, we all noticed that a yellow jacket had flown onboard. It wasn’t really bothering anyone, and seemed like it just wanted to find a way out. It flew past the folks on the left side, and then made a couple rounds to the right side. As it did this, the women were intent on shooing it away or (if necessary) killing it. There was a palatable sense of fear and distrust of this bee.

As the bee flew to my side of the bus, I was glad to see it land on the unopened window next to me. I began to open the window with the bee clearly in my sights, hoping it would get the picture and just fly away. As I did this, the women on the bus looked at me like I had three heads and made some remarks under their breath. Knowing this, I explained that I wasn’t trying to kill it, I was just trying to let it go. One of the ladies remarked that if it came by her it wasn’t going to get such a treatment.

I did not explain the reasons for my action – that harming sentient beings is forbidden by Buddhist doctrine (regardless of which branch you study). I knew that would make no difference to them.

The bee eventually flew out the window before we reached the second bus stop, and all concerned gave a sigh of relief. I filed this experience away for several weeks as I formulated what it meant to me, and what it reflected about human nature.

I suppose if I wanted to I could make a sexist remark about these women – about their fear and lack of courage in such a situation. Quite frankly, I do not believe that, and just prefer not to go down that road. There’s no point to interjecting machismo into my own actions in this case. However, I think their behavior was telling on several levels. Perhaps it is the mother instinct – the instinct to protect, that drove these women to their mumbled comments and strange glances. Perhaps it is societal – not genetic – that some people react in these ways. And perhaps it is because of the general media construction of insects, reptiles and other creatures that scares people away from being compassionate toward such beings. Or maybe the women were all nurses, and all knew something medically about the bee that made their concern warranted.

In any case, I did not address it with them and preferred to just think on it by myself, and through this journal entry. For the reader I pose these questions:

What would you have done?
What does their action say about our tendency to violence?
How does a motherly instinct function in this case?
What else can be learned from such a simple occurrence?

Let me just add that I don’t necessarily feel that I am better than these women. I do feel that I did the right thing, but the experience has left me with a quandary regarding my perception of nurses/medical staff and their capacity for compassion, which in this case seems to have been suppressed.