New bee-ginnings!

“Your whole posture changed when you started talking about your bees”, my back had straightened, eyes brightened, and a smile played on my lips. This observation was made by a complete stranger, who could feel the joy radiating out of me when I described what I do for a living - I’m a beekeeper.

This observant stranger's comment stayed with me, and I began to reflect on my beekeeping journey and ways in which it has enriched my life.

Anxiety and depression have been my life-long companions, I’m unsure why they have latched themselves onto me; perhaps my brain has created a hospitable environment for them, and they’ve made themselves a comfortable home. As I am a beekeeper and not a psychologist, I won’t linger on the origins of my mental health issues, I simply wanted to set the scene.

I felt ready to pull myself out of my slump and to try something new. This niche course seemed to be pulling me towards it.

I was suffering down a particularly bumpy road in 2017 and I felt consumed by hopelessness. During one of my ‘duvet days’, I was aimlessly scrolling through social media, when a post caught my attention. It was an advert for a local beekeeping course.

To this day, I’m still unsure why it sparked my curiosity so much. As a child, I’d always loved nature, catching frogs, studying snail shells and at one point, an unhealthy obsession with daddy long legs! But bees… I’d never really given them much thought.

I felt ready to pull myself out of my slump and to try something new. This niche course seemed to be pulling me towards it.

My beekeeping tutor, Ian, really hooked me in. His ability to educate, entertain and inspire during our classroom sessions really captivated me and I couldn’t wait to put my new-found knowledge into practice at the hives.

I got off the bus near Liverpool airport and, in search of the apiary, I followed the hand-drawn map I’d been given by Ian. I was surprised to find what appeared to be a semi-rural area, located at the boundary of the busy airport. I followed the path of grass, flattened by the tread of countless feet and lifted the latch of the wooden gate. Unbeknownst to me, I was about to experience something that would shape the course of my life forever.

Planes swept low and loud overhead, as I donned the crisp, white suit and secured the veil… it was time.

I remember so vividly my gloved fingers grasping the edges of the hive roof and lifting off the lid, to reveal the magic within.

I remember so vividly my gloved fingers grasping the edges of the hive roof and lifting off the lid, to reveal the magic within. The outside world completely melted away. The sound of plane engines as distant as their destinations, the nagging chatter of my anxiety drowned out by the buzzing of busy bees, the dark cobwebs of depression dusted away with the fluttering of the workers’ wings. There was so much to take in, it was as though my brain didn’t have the capacity for thoughts outside of these four hive walls.

I left the session feeling exhilarated and already I couldn’t wait to come back next week. My consuming depression often left me unable to see past the end of the day, but now, I had something to look forward to and a sense of purpose.

I’m by no means implying that this one experience, or the subsequent eight years of beekeeping, has “cured” my mental health issues. My mental health demons will never completely vanish, but they can (and have) become more manageable; they are still permanent residents, but they just occupy a small apartment now, rather than the whole building complex.

I kept pondering on how beekeeping had played a massive role in my journey to better mental health and thought, surely, I can’t be alone in this experience. That’s when I discovered the term eco-therapy: “ecotherapy is a type of therapeutic treatment which involves doing outdoor activities in nature.” It turns out that amongst all of her other wonderful work, Mother Nature is a therapist too!

When researching beekeeping as an eco-therapy, I came across an episode of the BBC Earth podcast, “The man whose life was saved by honeybees”, which told the story of a war veteran who used beekeeping to support him with his struggles with PTSD.

The episode concluded and before I’d even managed to remove my headphones, I had my ‘lightbulb’ moment. This is what I wanted to do. I wanted to share beekeeping with others to promote positive mental wellbeing.

The next few years ticked by and I continued beekeeping, with the empty promise to myself that I would revisit my beekeeping for mental health idea when I had more time. Then just like that, the pandemic hit, offering with it, the gift of time. I was unable to be furloughed or to work at home, now was as good a time as ever to start turning my dream into a reality.

By August 2020, I had established Wings & Radicles CIC.

The past five years have had its fair share of ups and downs: navigating a post-pandemic world, moving away from Merseyside, then back again; but the ethos has always remained the same. Wellness through beekeeping is at the heart of Wings & Radicles, always has been, always will be.

If I can make a living by helping people to have a more positive outlook on life, all while getting to play with bees all day, well, I can’t think of any other career I’d rather have.

If you feel that you would benefit from beekeeping or if you are simply curious to learn about honey bees; you can find out more about our workshops and book your space here: https://www.wingsandradicles.co.uk/workshops/

by Rachel Sampara