I could feel the bee kind of ‘staring’ at me. Gulping, I said, “Hello.”
Chapter 11: Rereading Sea of Miracles Together
Each of us carries a private lexicon—a living language of signs and symbols that spirit uses to reach us. In this chapter, I share how my symbolic vocabulary began to form, seeded by dreams, synchronicities, and a lifelong relationship with bees. What began as curiosity grew into a knowing: spirit speaks in our native tongue. And mine, it turns out, is sweet.
This post is part of my book, Sea of Miracles: An Invitation from the Angels. In this series, I’m revisiting the book—reflecting on it, fifteen years later—with fresh eyes and deeper understanding. You’ll find all the chapters and reflections gathered here.
Chapter Eleven:
A Personal Language of Symbols and Signs
As signs and symbols flowed into my life and my dreams, there were many books and websites to help me untangle and interpret their meaning. Through research, I learned that some of the symbols I was seeing bore archetypal meanings—broad, universal themes that could be applied for everyone.
Once I’d read descriptions of the general meaning of a symbol, I discovered that most of them bore personal meaning, as well.
Water, a classic dream symbol of the unconscious and also, the emotions, was also, for me, a symbol of the loss that I felt over the passage of time.
Deer, which often symbolize gentleness, were, for me, an invitation to the parallel path that increasingly beckoned.
And then there were the bees...
When I started working with angel stories, bees started to appear in my dreams. In one dream, I was a bee—and I was led, ceremonially, up a spiraling path inside a hive. After a bee dream, I’d wake up inspired, renewed and eager—as if I’d been through a rigorous training program.
Through my research, I learned that for the ancient Egyptians, bees were a powerful symbol. To them, bees were alchemists—capable of transforming the sun’s golden rays into golden sweetness. In Hinduism, the gods Indra, Krishna and Vishnu are referred to as, “the nectar born.” In Christianity, Jesus is referred to as “honey in the rock.”
Many cultures across the globe liken the experience of coming into resonance with divine energy with the buzzing community life of the hive and the rich, sticky sweetness of honey. What intrigued me even more was that some part of me had been aware of this symbolic resonance before I’d done the research.
And when I mentioned my bee dreams to my mother. . .
“That makes sense,” she said. “The bees have been with you since you were a baby.”
Puzzled, “I don’t understand,” I said.
“Of course you do!” My mother waved a hand. Then she reminded me...
“One morning — you were no more than a year old, I came out the back door of your grandmother’s house and there you were, sitting in the garden with a crown of bees—a buzzing, living wreath of bees—completely surrounding your head.”
I gasped. “Seriously?!”
“You seemed to be listening to them,” she remembered. “Just sitting there peacefully, as they buzzed around your head.”
Not one bee had stung me, she recalled.
“Not until I came running outside and grabbed you—then they stung us both. But I was surprised how few stings you had. One or two... I on the other hand, had plenty!”
That story led me to consider other, equally intriguing bee encounters I’d had at 7, at 12, at 27. But no bee encounter was more striking than this:
I was 35, standing in the kitchen savoring the quiet as both of my children were, for once, asleep at the same time. I was standing at the counter, sipping a glass of water when I heard something buzz up behind me.
A bee had entered the open back door and it was desperately trying to escape.
I watched it dart from kitchen to living room to dining room. Banging itself against the windows, zipping to the ceiling.
I didn’t want to get stung. But I did want to help. I was considering my options: I could open a window, or trap it gently in a paper cup and carry it outside, when, suddenly, the bee made a, well, a bee line, directly toward my face!
I pulled back, wincing. But just before it hit me, it stopped, hanging in mid-air in front of my forehead.
I could feel the bee kind of ‘staring’ at me.
Gulping, I said, “Hello.”I said it out loud—glad no one else was in the kitchen to witness this, the moment when I lost my mind. But I tell you, that bee answered me!
In a flash, I received a mental image that I can only describe as a map. It was also a question. Somehow, the bee was ‘telling’ me: I’m lost. Can you help me get out of here?
In the slowed-down time (a kind of suspended animation) in which these experiences often occur I ‘answered,’ forming a mental image of the route the bee would need to follow to find the door and then, ‘transmitting’ it, through the center of my forehead back to the bee.
The bee hung a moment longer; then it flew off, following the exact pattern I’d ‘sent’ it and sailed through the door.
It was at that moment that I realized: That bee just taught me how to send messages with my mind!
∞
Rudolf Steiner, the father of Anthroposophy, Waldorf Education and Biodynamic Agriculture, wrote that bees are attuned to high frequency energy and might be able to ‘see’ it—perhaps the way clairvoyants see auras of light around our bodies. When we raise the frequency of our own vibration through meditation, spiritual practice or prayer, bees may see or sense this ‘sweetening’ in us and be attracted to investigate.
In my studies, I learned that bees, animals and other insects can and do pick up on the energetic vibrations that we humans send out—and that these vibrations are sent by us (without our conscious attention) through our sixth chakra, located in the center of the forehead.
This helped me to speculate about my childhood crown of bees. Perhaps it was a conversation—an exchange of ‘sweetness’ between a child, whose thoughts—like the thoughts of all children—were naturally pure and ‘sweet.’ I sensed also that, somehow, my early encounter was an invitation into relationship.
From my dreams into my waking life
I began to receive bee-related gifts. Bee-decorated greeting cards, a small bee toy was left on my desk. I switched on the car radio just as a discussion of honeybees was beginning, a friend, completely unaware of my bee connection, sent me a copy of a book connecting bees with divine guidance.
One day, I mentioned all of this to my friend at work and she laughed. “You’re a bee priestess!” she proclaimed, suggesting that Bee might be a totem creature—a representative from the natural world working with the angels to deliver guidance.
I was pondering that idea an hour later as I pulled onto the Palisades Parkway headed for home. Suddenly, a car cut in front of me. Stunned, I read its license plate: Chakra 7.
I knew that the seventh chakra, the energy center located at the crown of the head, is our bio-energetic connection to divine energy. Laughing, I realized I’d just received another message, one that confirmed my energetic connection with the bees—and with guidance itself!
Spirit is in constant conversation with us
You can find your symbolic language by recording your dreams, by reviewing memories from childhood through the present. Look for repeating themes and patterns and for symbolic totem animals like my crows, deer and bees.
You, too, have your own symbolic dream language. Becoming aware of the symbols that resonate with you—and the kind of listening you are most attuned to, your way of reception—will help you more clearly receive and interpret guidance.
Perhaps the bees have visited you, too. Or maybe it’s foxes, feathers, coins, or a certain song on the radio at just the right moment. This chapter isn’t really about bees—it’s about learning to listen. To recognize that spirit has always been speaking to you in your native tongue. The conversation, once noticed, becomes lifelong.
For your own inquiry:
Listening for the Language of Spirit
What symbols or animals seem to follow you through dreams or waking life? Have you ever paused to ask why? What does this image or creature represent to you? What might it have to tell you?
When has the world around you seemed to respond to an unspoken question, longing, or thought? What was the message you received?
If Spirit were speaking to you in your own personal language, what ‘shorthand’ or symbol might it use? What would it take for you to recognize and trust that conversation?
As long as they were in your dream, Amy. Personally I’m terrified of bees, yellowjackets, wasps…anything that can sting me.
I love bees. I have a tuning fork tuned to the frequency of "love' and like to sit outside and "tune" the bees and thank them.