From the Hive: A Tiny Bee Fest, a Tiny Surprise, and Some Poems You Need to Read

Hi Friends,

I’m sending this a little later than usual, writing from the final full day of Bee Fest, our annual summer volunteer retreat. This one’s the tiniest yet (well, aside from the very first few, when it was just Leah and me). This year it’s just Leah, Liz, and me, with a special appearance or two by our volunteer Scott, Eugene local mail-processing ninja, who drops in to share lunch and take out the trash (thank you Scott!). But hey, what we lack in numbers, we make up for in meaning.

This week was all about preparing, hosting, and soaking in the energy of doing the work together. A few highlights:

• We kicked things off with side-by-side pedicures, which I’ve now declared our official Bee Fest initiation ritual.
• Someday we’ll be able to afford to have these things catered, but until then, cooking for these working events is my love language. (And my secret strategy is to serve everything just late enough that by the time it hits the table, they’re so hungry it tastes like a Michelin-starred meal. Hunger is the best seasoning.)

               

• Our sassy Director of Wellness and Spontaneous Joy (Liz) declared a mandatory leg stretch and herded us out the door for a much-needed evening walk to the 5th Street Public Market in Eugene, and then (as if she hadn’t already earned sainthood) bought us ice cream.
• I had to dash home mid-retreat to grab my iMac because the borrowed fossil laptop I was using was like typing underwater with mittens. And yes… I forgot the power cord. So, back I went. 🤦🏼‍♀️
• And the best surprise of all: Liz is expecting baby #3! Last year she came with her 3-month-old little bundle of sweetness. This year, she’s carrying the next little bee.

One moment I want to share especially:

While processing mail together, Leah opened a piece of writing from Dortell Williams, an incarcerated writer in California that stopped us cold. His transformation is a reminder of what’s possible, and why this work matters.

Read the piece by Dortell Williams

And speaking of poems…

We also want to pause and honor the life of Andrea Gibson, who passed away last week, which has had me in my feels. If you’ve followed us for a while, you’re familiar with Kurtis & Joe. Kurtis (in Illinois) is also a published poet (you can find his book Poems From Within, along with a dozen or so sudoku books on Amazon). I had sent a couple of her books to him since he started writing us, and had to break the news when we spoke just before Bee Fest.

One poem in particular of Andrea’s that hit me hard when I first read it, begins:

“The kindest thing I ever did
was to decide to never think this thought:
As soon as the cancer goes away, I’ll start my life.
This is my life.”

I’ve done that a LOT in my life.
“As soon as my brother gets out.”
“As soon as my husband gets out.”
(Spoiler: That chapter closed differently than I’d hoped.)
“As soon as this organization gets funded…”
It’s a trap that keeps us in waiting rooms.

Thanks for the reminder, Andrea.

Then there’s this line:
“Dying is the opposite of leaving.”

This is your Bee Sides invitation to go down the rabbit hole. Search Andrea Gibson. Because I’m not linking everything.

Look up that line up there in bold ^^. You’ll find a video of Andrea, reading a poem outside under a tree.
Find it. Watch it. Cry. Repeat.

To wrap up this Bee Fest Edition, just a reminder that studies consistently show volunteering can reduce stress, improve mood, and even lower blood pressure, all while building community and purpose.

If you need a little motivation or a reason to start your own Bee Fest someday – go ahead and Google something like “power of volunteering for health.” You’ll find studies, personal stories, and lots of inspiration.

Thank you for being here. Back in the Roffice Tuesday, after the buzz settles.

With gratitude,
Melissa & the Adopt an Inmate team

Quote of the Week:

Without volunteers, we’d be a nation without a soul – Rosalyn Carter

Image by Beverly Buckley on Pixabay