When I was a kid, well and way into my adult-hood, I was terrified of bees and other flying creatures.

I didn’t like butterflies because they seemed as confused as moths and would flitter about aimlessly. I couldn’t dodge them because I didn’t know which way they’d be going.

I especially didn’t like bees. I was terrified of them. When I was five years old we were on a camping trip. My older brother and I were exploring and found an old ticket booth. As he opened it up we were surrounded by bees. He was stung mercilessly while I only got a few stings but one that would forever remind me. I had a little crevice in my nose for most of my life from one of those stings. (I think it finally went away about 15 years ago.)

My fear of bees was a source of entertainment for all who witnessed it. When I’d work in the flowerbeds, if a bee came I’d run as fast as I could, flailing my arms like a mad women. The elderly couple across the street loved it. I had other similar occasions where people would see me screaming and running; at picnics, in parks, etc. I’ve seen adults and kids alike, laughing hysterically at the sight.

In late 2003 I had a TBI. One of the very incredible things to come from that was that I no longer had any fear of bees or other flying creatures.

In 2005 I went into a butterfly hutch and was surrounded by thousands of butterflies, I was amazed by them.

I realized I no longer had a fear of bees when I went with my mother to a lavender farm to cut fresh lavender. I was squatting on the ground clipping and realized that I had bees buzzing all around me and I was fine.

I now have a tree not far from our front door. This time of year, as I walk by it, all I can hear is the beautiful hum, the buzzing of many bees on the blossoms and I feel a sense of awe throughout my being.

The difference? The TBI slowed me down and reconnected me to nature in a way that I hadn’t been since I was a child, living in the mountains of Colorado.