My bumble-bee

I would like very much to find my bumble-bee again.  I had it for many, many years, and when it was with me, there was nothing I couldn’t do.  I, like my bumble-bee, did not know that there were things I wasn’t capable of accomplishing, so the sky was the limit, the world was my oyster, and there were no dreams that were unattainable.  Because the idea of “can’t” was alien and unknown, I could write a novel in a few weeks, I could build my kitchen from scratch, I could teach profound wisdoms, I could create a life however I wanted, love whomever I wanted, share with whomever I wanted…

I lived staunchly by the motto that “only those that attempt the absurd, achieve the impossible”, but somewhere along the way, someone started measuring me.  I was gauged and classified and quantified, and suddenly I couldn’t lift “this much weight” – I could lift only up to a number because that’s all the numbers said I could do.  I couldn’t stay up late, I couldn’t eat two full meals at a setting, I couldn’t do this and that and that and this other thing because the numbers just didn’t work.

When that horrible quantifier came along – and to be honest, I’m not sure what its name was or if it was a single person – my bumble-bee faded away.  Slowly and insidiously, my life became a tangled maze of “can’t do that” and “impossible” and “impractical” and “unacceptable”.  The withering eye of judgment had caught me in its gaze, and I seemed unable to escape from its strength-sapping powers.  One day, I woke up at realized that my desires were “absurd” and that they were completely “impossible” and that I was ridiculous and silly and dumb for wanting them in the first place, let alone thinking they could exist.

Of late, though, something is shifting.  Something is happening.  The revolution is coming, but it will surprise us all with what it looks like when it shows up.  This something tells me that I need to find my bumble-bee, and fast.  We’re both going to be needed because the evil villainous trap of impossible is going to need a superhero to kick it in the junk.