Back in 1977 - a quarter century ago - I was challenged to confront the BEES!

It happened on holiday with colleagues from work. We were visiting the 'West Country' near Lands End in Cornwall and had arrived the most southerly part of England: Lizard Point.

At high tide the area becomes an island only half a mile off shore, but at low tide, it is possible to walk across to ‘The Mound’. The island hosts a monastery that nowadays is the central tourist attraction for the area. A second thrill can occur taking the short boat trip when dolphins are frequently seen 'escorting' the vessel on its daily trips.

In summer the coast of Cornwall is heated by warm waters of the Gulf Stream, which bring welcome warmth all the way from the Gulf of Mexico. It releases it's heat upon the first land mass it encounters after flowing across the mighty Atlantic Ocean. The warmth although quite gentle is steady all the year round and allows semi-tropical plants: succulents and cacti, to survive outdoors well north of their usual latitude.

Of course there is one 'minor' side effect. Insects also flourish. Without the chilling winters that infest the British shores, local bugs thrive year round. Even in the early spring they are in abundance - and searching for 'food'.

It was in this scenario that a foot-weary group of hungry tourists sat down at their picnic table for a long awaited rest. Out came the packed lunches, cakes (muffins), sodas and hot tea. It didn't help that I had thoughtlessly made Honey & Lemon Curd sandwiches. After a few minutes one or two Honey Bees came to visit. None of us paid much attention at first since bees are a common part of British summertime. Then a few more arrived, and A Few More, and A FEW MORE, and A LOT MORE, and then THE WHOLE DAMNED HIVE seemed to be visiting... ... ...

The table emptied in record time, emptied of Humans that is. The bees were very much at home. It should be said in deference to the bees that they were only flying around and investigating the source of all the aromas we had introduced within their territory. They weren't attacking us although the noise was very disconcerting.

As we backed away a colleague mocked me for being afraid. He knew that I had been delving into my mind with hypnosis and using hypnotic techniques to 'improve' myself. He challenged me to confront the fear. In doing so he made me aware of my ‘irrational’. It was a challenge that I was happy to accept.

At first I thought about using Simple Hypnotic techniques to override my fear, to strengthen my control of the phobia. Then another idea struck, an alternative option. Earlier that year I had read Arthur Janov's books on Primal Therapy. One feature that seemed useful. It was the idea that if a neurosis could be overloaded it would break down and the forces that drove it would break into consciousness. That could - via something known as ‘connection’ - completely eliminate the phobia.  I decided to try that approach.

Turning to the picnic table and its abundant swarm (for that's how I was perceiving the bees) I began walk slowly towards the unholy terror. I could feel my body tense up. The fear became Panic. I had to use wakeful hypnotic suggestions to push me forward despite every cell of my body quivering like a jelly in a Californian Earthquake. The terror was immense and I was grateful to my audience. As they watched me face the fear, and it was very obvious that my fear was growing, their 'encouragement' gave me the courage to continue. At about six feet from the swarm progress had become almost a stand still.

Again I used hypnotic suggestion to force me to advance a few inches at a time. I was panting heavily, tears welled into my eyes making vision almost impossible.

Suddenly I was hit by massive flashbacks to my childhood - back at four or five years old. I was in a bulky old-fashioned armchair arched backwards over it. My mother was holding my head inverted so she could drip medication into my nose. The only problem is that she was in her normal mode: TOTAL PANIC. She was clearly terrified and her panic was contagious. Intuitively I responded to the panic and was in a state of extreme agitation: panting like a dog in a heat wave. Obviously in this state every attempt by my mother to drip the medication into me resulted in chocking inhalation that intensified my panic. This angered her - it made her so furious that she threatening me with a beating if I didn't stop 'fighting her.' Surely she realized that pure panic could not be dissipated by mere threats. It only aggravated the situation.

I felt fear from long, long ago. Not only the fear of choking on the nose drops, but the fear of a beating if I couldn't control the panic. Panic that she herself had induced. If only I didn't need the nose drops I would be safe. I would not be in danger if only I could keep the drops out of my nose.

I felt those ancient thoughts as clearly as I had that day back in 1953. I felt the thoughts and watched them in fascination as they generalized.

I would only be safe if I could keep the drops out of my nose.
I would only be safe if I could keep EVERYTHING away from my nose.
I would only be safe if I could keep EVERYTHING away from any facial orifice: my nose, my eyes, and my ears.
And further still:
I would only be safe if I never have to lean over backwards ever again.

The flashbacks took only a fraction of a second but covered many such incidents over a span of several years. In the split second that they flooded my body and mind I felt the terror of my childhood and a strange stillness overtook me.

When looked at the bees again they were just flying insects. There was neither affection nor dislike for them. My breathing had returned to normal and my body was relaxed. Without effort I strolled into the buzzing forest of bees. That they could creep into a facial orifice was not even disconcerting. Sitting down amongst them I picked up the honey sandwiches and began to eat. The bees were crawling over my hands and the bread. I simply waved the sandwich to shake them away and continued eating in complete indifference.

My friends were quiet for several minutes before calling to me (from a distance.) They wanted to know what had happened. How was I able to be doing ‘that’? Later they would recant the story from their prospective, without the time distortion I’d experienced. According to their descriptions: I had started walking towards the table, gradually slowing down. For an instant I had tensed up and froze, then almost immediately resumed a normal walk, sat down, and began to eat. Clearly the memory flashbacks were instantaneous although they seemed to take up many minutes of subjective time.

On that day the primal techniques seemed to have been successful. Now twenty-five years later the results are as strong as that day back in 1977. Today I can say with certainty: ‘The techniques did work.’

Nowadays the Honey Bees and all flying insects are to me at least just an inconvenience, just a nuisance. I had made a connection to my hidden past and affected a cure. This was clearly the way to go. But the Primal Institute was in a foreign country and to live there for a year was beyond my resources. I had to wait decades, until the end of the century, before the opportunity to follow up this success arrived.

This experience has been the light at the end of the tunnel. A glimpse of what a life free from fear can be. My task now is overcome the fear of people that has hounded my life. It is a task that I am now ready to face.