Grief and Gratitude are Companions

by Carrie Riley, Hive Facilitator

Carrie Riley is a Grief Recovery Specialist and Self Care Coach. As part of our Autumn theme, Gratitude, she writes on the integral connection between gratitude and grief.

The Autumn season brings forth two opposing feelings. On one hand, we are called to be thankful and to show gratitude. The Thanksgiving holiday and all its symbols remind us of our blessings and bounty; we are encouraged to focus on all we have. 

And yet, autumn also reminds us of all that we've lost. We are greeted by holidays and rituals from around the world that focus on death and dying. We're reminded to let go of that which no longer serves us, just as the trees are letting go of their leaves. 

Autumn is a season that invites us to sit with both grief and gratitude.

While seemingly at odds, grief and gratitude are actually complimentary. Each informs and amplifies the other. We can only truly grieve that which we are thankful to have had. Witnessing grief, whether our own or another's, helps us find gratitude for all that makes up our lives. Grief and gratitude are not opposites, but companions.

If you find yourself supporting a griever through this difficult season, it could be easy to rely on gratitude to ease their pain. You might find yourself reminding them of all they have to be thankful for. Instead of pushing toward gratitude too quickly, I invite you to sit with them in witness to their grief. 

Can you, instead, notice that grieving can be an expression of gratitude for what once was? Can you notice and move through uncomfortability, and allow yourself to soften in the company of a griever to allow grief to do its work?

While gratitude can coexist with grief, it is not a salve for pain. If you, yourself, are grieving I invite you to let go of the advice to be grateful and, instead, just be. Allow whatever feelings coming to you at this time to come. Observe them without judgment. And know that if gratitude is among those feelings- and it might be- that you can appreciate all you had while still wishing things were different, better or more. In this season of both grief and gratitude, you can feel both.

Abundance in Community: 2022 Year-End Campaign

Community doesn’t just create abundance – community is abundance. If we could learn that equation from the world of nature, the human world might be transformed. - Parker Palmer

Dear Hive Community,

This season is full of possibility. As we have listened, learned, and continued to grow together, we are sensing a new story of the Hive emerging. Hive community members who long to co-create and sustain the Hive into 2023 have joined us to vision for the future together. We have learned over the last few years of change that we have to commit to those things that matter most to us.

Our leadership is discerning a vision, mission, and culture truly led by a collective of people who have done the hard work of building trust, and who are committing to embodying the practices and values of the Hive for one another as a fractal of what the Hive aspires to be in the world (you'll see their names signed below).

As we move forward together, we sense that tapping into the abundance of community is a deeper, more generative practice, and we are so proud of how this practice has transformed the Hive over the past year.

Now, more than ever in the Hive’s history, we are being led by a diverse group of gifted individuals who are passionate, brave, and trustworthy practitioners of contemplative leadership.

This leadership is not fixed; it seeks to be a living, breathing organism that can strategically adapt to change as it comes.

Celebrating 2022

We are grateful for your partnership in taking us this far! And we invite you to celebrate with us the work we’ve done this year. Consider this snapshot:

Classes: So far in 2022, we’ve welcomed 18 new members, sold nearly 1,000 tickets to classes, held 84 courses and events, and we’ve given away over $10,000 in scholarships through “pay what you can” offerings.

Community: Hive Cohorts have continued to form and meet throughout the year as Members co-create circles to journey together for the long haul. Additionally, we’ve hosted three Hive Member community dinners so far, sharing meals and reflecting together on the transformation unfolding at the Hive. Our seasonal themes have provided containers for courageous dialogue around Appreciation (winter), Unknowing (spring), Abundance (summer), and Gratitude (this fall).

Expanding the Reach of the Hive: This year, we were gifted with several opportunities to host larger events to broaden our reach in Cincinnati and beyond. We hosted grammy- nominated musician Michael Gungor for a flagship event in August, and partnered with The Well for gatherings with Rumi translator Haleh Liza Gafori. We also joined PAR Projects to host a block party on Hoffner St., and hosted seven open house social gatherings throughout the year to practice hospitality and welcome the public into the Hive.

As we strive to generate new opportunities to cultivate inner transformation and invite new people to experience the gift of the Hive, we need you.

The Hive depends not just on members and participants but on the generosity of donors to offer what they have to our community.

Perhaps you found the Hive to be a place that welcomed you when you weren’t sure of your next step forward, or when you stood on the threshold between one time of your life and the next. Maybe you were looking for a community of practice to help you embody your values or seeking a place of spiritual awakening. Maybe you want to be part of a collective who believes the world can be different than it is.

Keep the Gift Going

Each of us have found our way to the Hive for a variety of reasons. But together we've found something life-giving, uplifting, and inspiring - a community of people dedicated to transformation. A people who believe in the growing edge as a place of hope.

We need each other to find this kind of abundance. We invite you to be a sustainer of the Hive, to offer what you have to sustain the Hive for the coming year and beyond. We want to share the Hive with more friends, neighbors, and colleagues. We want to cultivate space for contemplative practices that fuel collective change-making. We believe that this kind of community takes intentionality and a commitment to show up, not just for ourselves but for others who are still on the journey and seeking the change we are longing for.

You're invited to keep the gift going and join us in our year-end capital campaign. Our goal is to raise $40,000. Your gift will help us step confidently in 2023, allowing us to continue to curate transformative classes and events, maintain our building in Northside, and compensate our staff and facilitators.

If you have an annual practice of directed charitable giving, we invite you to include the Hive in a considerable way. Join us in making a donation to the Hive this year; no amount is too big or too small. Give what you can so we can continue to cultivate transformative community in Cincinnati and beyond.

To give now, visit cincyhive.org/give

With Gratitude,

The Hive Advisory Board, Lead Team, and Wisdom Circle

Jane Gerdsen, Karen Ecker, Ed Goode, Geralyn Sparough, Niki Pappas, Chris La Rue, Daniel Hughes, La Shanda Sugg, Tina Hubert, Rowe Schnure, and Ed Ewbank

The Within and Without of Unknowing

by Troy Bronsink, Hive Founder Emeritus and Facilitator

Our founder, Troy Bronsink, shares some poetry as part of our Spring theme, Into the Unknown.

The Within and Without of Unknowing

Facilitating so many small groups and equipping other facilitators to do the same is probably my greatest pride and joy when it comes to my years as founder and director of the Hive. It's a tremendous privilege to sit together as humans at the edge of letting newness arrive, at the edge of sharing what's at the tip of our tongues, and at times, with everyone at the edge of their seats bearing witness to it all. 

So much can be said about the work of holding space as a personal contemplative practice, and the gift of facilitators who can also hold space for a circle of others. If you've facilitated before you know the experience when it's not yet clear whether you should say anything, or simply let a situation play out. And if you've sat in contemplative stillness (meditation, yoga, centering prayer, morning pages, etc) you know that thin line of staying within while allowing what is true in the inner experience to be seen by others. In the inner contemplation we learn to stay with ourselves without coercion or abandonment. In contemplative community we learn to stay in the circle without coercing others or abandoning them. These are like fractals of the same posture, holding space for two unknowns at once.

But this is not an easy tension to hold. The demila is as old as the biblical teaching: on one hand, find a closet to pray in and give in quiet, on the other, presence arises when two or three gather, living all of life by praying without ceasing. Within pulling on without. In all my years I don't think I've come across a perfect formula about how much to share or not share about the inner work. I suppose that’s why bearing witness is seen as a contemplative practice in and of itself. It takes discernment and courage and vulnerability to take our inside world into the outside.  

Poems about Inner and Outer Unknown

Over the last two years of Covid I've been getting reacquainted with my love for writing, and at Chris LaRue's request am sharing a few poems here to reflect on the power of shared space for the inner life to arise. The first poem, "Did Y'all See That?" is about a participant in a leadership class I facilitated. Often, in a class a facilitator might see someone on the brink of tears and decide there's no need to bring attention to it. And yet our heart goes out, wanting to say I see you, or thank you, or what a gift! The second poem, "A Second Benediction," I wrote after a phone conversation with an old friend, who is now a priest, reflecting on the authority of vulnerable words said by a stranger in the midst of a graveside memorial service. 

We are in the aftermath of so many great issolations. We are beset on all sides by the unknown (perhaps we have always been?). Both of these poems note the intimate power of coming alive to the inner work in the midst of others, bridging that isolation by daring to show others what is occurring within— a core gift that the Hive community has taught me over these years. I hope each of these poems help brighten your own heart to the gift of community in unknown times.


Did Y’all See That? 
(or The Secret Gift of Facilitation)
— after facilitating at the Hive, Spring 2021

It was hidden in plain sight, her strength
like a church bell calling us in with invocation: 
yes-and, try harder, and sheets spread with key indicators

while the water, proceeding discreetly, in single file, into
that miniature place outside the tear duct, filling like a public fountain
welling into a drop, mascara mixed with saline, swirled
safely behind the miniature dam she’d erected. 

How long ago? Who knows? Likely sandbags at first 
and then with each question, higher 
and higher the bricks and mortar rose.

If we could only have zoomed in a bit
we’d have seen all the life teaming in that tidal pool
small enough to fit at the end of a pin,
a heavenly host missed for the magnanimity 
of her efforts at blending in, and me
settling for the balcony, peering down like a child from a plane 
window, missing the trees for the forest. 

Well, the pregnant moment passed,
as is the case with all ripe containers.

Eventually, though, the levee did break.
The conversation shifted, and the sensitive feelers 
had grown confident in speaking again.
That's when I saw her subtly source a tissue
and with whispering sleight of hand

dab the inside corner of her eye.
Once. 
Precise.

“Did y’all see that?” 
I wanted to shout, but didn't.
Somehow ripened, myself, in a cloud of revelation.
You might not call it an initiation 

—for this baptism had passed most of us by.
But I’m going to swing back to her, later,
with a christening gift.
Or maybe just a card saying: 

Thank you, for the holy water.


A Second Benediction

- for Rev. Joshua Case, who helped remind me that the magic is not in the office,
but in the body’s willingness to hold space for something to arise.

There is a type of electric southern heat, 
a moment, where in, you know you’ll either melt or catch fire. 

After the first siren
screamed by the sun-beat cemetery,

after the family and I gathered in our suits and sun hats,
flummoxed by rules to mask or unmask,

after the grave diggers stumbled
removing the worn astroturf, the tent
and the buckled plywood
to reveal a hole
three feet by four, root-filled

and I knelt to return John’s ashes, 
back to the ground,

after I repeated prayers
with words like return, peace, and place,

disrupted by yet another siren
I heard myself say to him
You ol’ electrical engineer! ‘Must be playing with the circuits again!

After the static silence set our hair on end, 
and we all mumbled Amen,

one of the grave-diggers, sweat poking 
out like beads ‘round his huge blue eyes, leaning
in like a reluctant shaman, shovel
to ground like a lightning rod, prayed 
a second benediction

“Damn, I feel the chills all over my body
and I don’t never feel chills like that.”

Practices for the Unknown

by Sonya Verma, Hive Yoga Facilitator

Sonya Verma is a gifted yoga facilitator here at the Hive. As part of our Spring theme, Into the Unknown, she’s gifted us with some of the wisdom she’s gleaned from her experience facing the unknown.

The rhythms of life are all around us. Some have become familiar to us, like the changing of the seasons, and the waxing and waning of the moon. Some rhythms are personal, such as coming of age, becoming a parent, or taking on new roles in our lives. Some rhythms only occur once every generation, or even as long as an epoch. When rhythms fall out of memory, they appear to us as the unknown.

The unknown is similar to writer's block. It is like having words on the tip of one's tongue and not finding them. Our initial impulse is to think, intellectualize and struggle to be perfect or be right in a disagreement.

There is another way. The way of the unknown. Taking a dive into the unknown allows us to get out of our own way. Not knowing allows space for something new to arise. Knowing is a rut we get into that stifles creativity and imagination.

What better time to go into unknowing than in this season of Spring? Spring signifies rebirth, renewal, and hope. When I go outdoors, I’m captivated by the fragrance, colors and beauty of nature. I wonder how all of this came to be, and revel in the mystery.

Contrasted to the hope of Spring is the uncertainty we live with in the world today. Not knowing the road ahead can be unsettling. We must trust there is medicine available to us in these unknown times. On a personal level, the darkest days of my past have shown me strength and capabilities I didn’t know I had. When we are ready to open our eyes to the hidden resources we posses, we can start to change the course we are on. 

What I feel at a personal and global level is an awakening to how we are truly meant to live. We must put down our swords, unveil our masks, and step into our sovereign birthright and power. We cannot wait any longer to awaken to our spiritual purpose. To call for unity, community and healing. It feels that we are all evolving and birthing a new way of being. This is the time that we need ways to ground ourselves, have disciplines and community that we can lean on.

For me these disciplines are centered around my Ayurvedic practice of creating boundaries around time and information. We are inundated with so much information these days and everything that is taken into the senses has to be digested and integrated just like food. If not, it creates all kinds of constipation on many levels. When I create boundaries on what I’m consuming from food to information, it allows for integration, assimilation and easy digestion. Simple everyday routines keep me grounded and present, which allows me to extend myself more to the world around me. The consistency of having a routine based on the seasons and rituals of time allow me to hone in my energy so that I have space for creativity and vitality. We can’t give from an empty cup.  

My spiritual meditation practice that I do every morning and night helps me connect and surrender to something larger than myself and allows me to grow into my potential. Spiritual practice will be different for each of us; what’s important is having a system that allows you to surrender and welcome in mystery.

Finally, I make sure to honor the practice of gratitude. During this time, like many others, I have felt isolated and alone. The more I’ve been able to see the good in my life and in others, the more my perspective of the world around me has changed. Gratitude also transforms the small point of view of ‘me’ into a  larger one that includes the world around me. 

A practice of gratitude has also naturally led me to extend myself in service to my family and community. When faced with the unknown, leaning into our connection with those around us becomes crucial. We need one another.

You may know the old Indian story where a group of blind men come across an elephant for the first time. And as each person touches a different part of the elephant, they each start to share a part of what they felt. One felt the tusk, the other the ear, the trunk, and the foot. Each of them gets excited and starts to share what they felt with their limited perspectives. After each one hears what the other offers they start to question each other. How could each of them sense something different when they were all touching the same thing? Some people in the group question if the others are being dishonest or even messing with them. In this way, in our own experiences we have a tendency to believe we have the absolute truth in our limited subjective experience and judge others based on their limited subjective experiences which could have helped us see a bigger picture.

There is so much more that we can do when we are open to listening to one another in the space of curiosity and collectively working together to find solutions.

May this be our path forward as we continue to walk into the unknown.

We Need One Another

by Chris La Rue, Director of Communications and Formation

Photo credit: Taken during Ed Good's Contemplative Photography Winter class.

The news seems to have no shortage of devastating headlines to deliver.

We see images and videos of people in Ukraine experiencing trauma on an unthinkable level- people whose lives are changing forever before our very eyes. 

We live in a time where technology can make us feel paradoxically close and yet so far from the other side of the world. How do you grieve for people whose suffering you see in great detail through a medium that is so individualistic? 

The magnified detail by which we witness this suffering seems to mock us with feelings of helplessness, rage, and everything in between.

What can we do? Are we completely helpless?

As someone part of the digitally-native-Generation Z, I can’t help but think that many of us are being organized into further levels of isolation by the way we consume news. At least, that's true in my experience. Individualistic consumerism of media is so much more readily available than communal gatherings in which we ground ourselves in our bodies, honor the losses our fellow humans are experiencing, and consider how we might organize ourselves in ways that contribute to the common good.

It reminds me of the Hive Instagram conversation between Daniel Hughes and Troy Bronsink last November. They considered the question, “Each of us is either organizing or being organized. How do we integrate our thoughts, actions, and desires to work towards shared agreements for the common good?” Daniel says, "There's going to come a moment where [we] can't keep going- paralysis sets in. 'I can't move, I can't organize.' This is where you need a collective."

A group that reminds you why staying engaged is important. A group that reminds you how to come home to yourself so that you can show up in the world with vulnerability and bravery. A group that reminds you that the "great mistake is to act the drama as if you were alone," as David Whyte puts it.

So, maybe we can meet our large feelings of helplessness with the question, “In what ways- even small- am I participating in organizing for a better world?” 

But for those of us who aren't directly organizing or affecting change on the other side of the globe, what do we do?

This week during our lead team meeting, we named how we're showing up to this collective moment. Geralyn put it this way: “Part of me feels helpless to effect any change. And yet, another part of me knows I can send my energy out, for at least part of my day.”

I was reminded that small things like invocation, prayer, loving-kindness meditations, the Buddhist practice of Tonglen are all ancient technologies that can serve us into our connectedness in this moment. 

In addition, local civic participation, acts of service and loving our neighbors can actualize that contemplative realization of our interconnectedness in small ways, keeping the inner work and outer work humming.

And I know I can't write that without admitting that I need a collective to do this work. I'd bet the same is true for you.

So, how might we gather around embodied practices that can help us honor the gravity of this collective moment we’re in? 

The Hive is here to help Cincinnati and beyond keep showing up to the work of inner and outer transformation. We know we're not alone in this work; if you belong to other communities doing this, keep going! 

If you need place to do this work, consider this a humble invitation to join us. We need each other more than ever now. There are trauma-informed therapists, yoga instructors, art facilitators, meditation teachers, and so many other kinds of Hive facilitators that have created a timely line-up of experiences this Spring. You're invited to Buzz, our online gathering this Saturday to hear from our facilitators directly. I am so grateful for their expertise and care in this moment, and for the Hive members and participants that are making this community a brave space for people to show up as they are. 

There is so much unknown before us. Last year, we decided "Into the Unknown" would be our community theme for Spring, and it has become more relevant than we could have foreseen. 

History has shown us humanity's worst when faced with collective uncertainty.

May that not be our story in this moment.

May we continue to show up- to ourselves, one another, the Earth, our associations and institutions, and the stories that connect us.

We need one another.

We've got one another.

Let's keep showing up,

And leaning on one another when it's just too hard.

Celebrating the Winter Solstice

By Chris McLaren, Hive Facilitator and member of our Wisdom Circle

Photo taken by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

This year the winter solstice falls on 12/21/21 precisely at 10:59 am. This event marks the beginning of winter, and the shortest day and longest night of the year.

These seasonal changes- from more to less daylight, from warmer to cooler temperatures- have been used for millennia to mark the passage of time. It is important to celebrate these natural events, these markers-of-time more than ever. I find myself thinking in terms of pre and post COVID/lockdown while trying to recall life events. It is the very large “stick in the mud” marking a common event all of us experienced. 

What if we were to choose a different stick in the mud? 

What if we wanted to align a bit more with the natural rhythms of the Earth? 

As winter approaches here in the Northern Hemisphere, the Earth around us is getting ready to rest. You’ve noticed this: The trees have let their leaves fall away, and some plants allowed their stalks and leaves to dry out and wither whilst preserving their essence deep in their roots. Sadly, some died. It’s all part of the natural cycle. Perhaps we can use these natural changes to prompt us in our self-care. 

Perhaps, like the Earth, we can make time to rest.

As the days shorten, allow yourself to slow down. Do less, be more. Be in stillness, in contemplation, in your breath, in the moment! Drop your worries and troubles like falling leaves. Allow your awareness to rest in your heart, your direct connection to Unconditional Love. Isn’t that what we seek, unconditional love? It is and always has been inside you, right now!

When we feel deeply loved, our perspective changes. When we deeply love ourselves, the world changes. This kind of love cannot be contained. It is highly contagious and easily transmitted. As many songs have stated, “Love is all you need!” It is the peace beyond all understanding. Sadly, it seems in our non-stop society we need some cues to remind us to cultivate this love. 

Why not allow the seasons to be these cues: winter solstice, spring equinox, summer solstice and fall equinox? What would happen if you created your own ritual four times a year as a way to remember to love yourself a little more? I believe you would see some big changes in your world!

In my opinion, one of the easiest ways to start loving yourself more is to put yourself in an environment conducive to this type of self-love. A sound bath is one of those environments! I’m hosting a crystal singing bowl sound bath at the Hive on Monday the 20th (the night before the solstice) from 7-8:15 pm. The crystal bowls produce soft, flowing resonate tones that facilitate a state of deep relaxation and healing. This is an in-person event with limited space- click here to learn more and register. I hope to see you there!

Letter from Executive Director Announcing Transitions

I’m sitting at my dining room table across from my son finishing his homework, my fingers thawing out from the outside where I was taking in the remnants of our first snow and an end-of-the-day beer. If we look around we see changes everywhere. Changes we’ve chosen, and changes that happen to us, seasonally, and erratically. How to live in change without losing ourselves— this has always been at the heart of our work at the Hive.

We are going through tremendous change at the Hive and I’d like to share more of that with you today.

In the new year, I’ll be stepping aside as director of the Hive to make room in my own life as well as in the structure of our community for new growth. There is inner vitality calling all of this forth. For the Hive and me. Let me explain. 

We are moving into a transition from start-up to long-term sustainability. We are creating new structures to grow our impact and create more space for inner and outer transformation. We are also leaning into donors and members to own more of the responsibility in this new season. This is already afoot!

In this transition I’ll still be around the Hive, continuing to facilitate courses, and applying my experience, as the founder, to the formation of the Hive Advisory Board (more on that later). This will open space for me to pursue other work as a facilitator and transformational coach using contemplative approaches to building capacity in businesses and movements that benefit the common good. I’m looking forward to the open space and the challenge to personally grow in the areas that inspire me most and seem best suited to serve the world. This rhymes with what we’ve been building the Hive to facilitate for everyone— courage for transformation.

My last day as executive director will be December 31st, after which I’ll be taking a two-month Sabbatical to restore, write, seek inspiration, and focus on my work for the future. These five years have allowed me to walk closely with so many in short and long stents. If this news is coming as a surprise, I ask for your grace to know that I could not possibly tell everyone personally. But I invite you to reach out for coffee or a walk or to drop notes, as I’d love to hear what this transition means to you as well as any questions you might have about what I anticipate it to mean for me. I’d also make a plug for this Saturday’s Holiday Party (December 11, 5-7pm), where I’d be more than glad to talk about any of this over a hot toddy. Finally, please save the date for a community appreciation gathering planned for the evening of March 19, after my Sabbatical, to mark my departure and inaugurate these next steps.

Before we proceed, at the risk of being melodramatic, I invite you to take a look up from the page and consider where this hits you in your body. As I write I feel pride along my back, below my shoulders, coexisting with feeling loss in my gut. I picture so many faces, I recall so many tears, so many brave steps we’ve all taken, our daily Facebook meditations throughout the lockdown,  even the failed projects or partings-of-ways that occurred as the organization and I made way through our early days. I count founding the Hive as one of my greatest life accomplishments and it never would have been possible without community, without you. I've come to trust the arising that happens when a community makes reliable agreements. You've taught me this.


This transition process has been in the works for some time and many leaders and stakeholders of the Hive are busy at work with me planning for what the new year has in store. I’d like to share more of that below:

The Lead Team

In the new year, Geralyn Sparough will step up as interim director, supported by Niki Pappas who’ll serve as Membership and Operations Director, and Chris LaRue serving as Director of Communications and Formation. These three have been the hands of the organization for more than two years now, my most trusted colleagues in delivering community offerings and holding the hospitable container for what you’ve come to expect from Hive classes and teaching. In this new structure, we’ll be elevating their authority and responsibility to have a greater impact on the growth and impact of our organization. You’ll notice that their new roles will feel like deeper personal focus on members, more gatherings, facilitator development and consistency, and leveling up our marketing to increase attendance and membership.

The Advisory Board:

As you may know, the Hive is a subsidiary of a larger nonprofit, Relational Tithe. The blessings of this relationship are too many to count here, but one is the support and oversight of their board of directors. As the Hive moves to sustainability we have formed a local Advisory Board who will serve as “the light of the mind” for the organization. Already, we’ve met, sharing enthusiasm and a clear focus on the nuts and bolts I used to hold on my own. I’ll introduce them all in a future email, but we are a team of 5, seasoned members and facilitators, including me and chaired by long-time Hive member, Jane Gerdsen. The responsibility of this board is to review goals and budgets to inform strategic decisions of the right-sizing of the organization, hiring, and fund development.

The Wisdom Circle

The heart of the Hive, the Wisdom Circle is a council of facilitators and mentors who commit to caring for the soul of the organization. Many of the Wisdom Circle will be familiar to you—proven facilitators, wise leaders, and people who are able to articulate the vision of small group formation for inner and outer transformation. Upfront, you’ll be hearing from Hive Wisdom Circle members in these emails, social media offerings, and in periodic community gatherings. Behind the scenes, the Wisdom Circle will be supporting the Lead Team by considering themes for courses, curriculum objectives, facilitator norms, and the Hive’s core intentions including healing, community action, inclusion, and collective change.


In spite of all this transition, so much of 2022 will remain consistent. I’ll be around for celebrations and various courses and events. Membership offerings will continue expanding to include cohorts. Classes and events in all of our domains will be expanding. And we’ll begin to lean into rhythms for the long haul.

It is with deep gratitude, hopeful anticipation, some sadness, and an overall sense of right-timing that I extend three bows: to what is within, to those of you with whom I’m honored to share practices, and to the wider world brimming with gifts and possibility.

Warmly,

Troy Bronsink
Hive Founder/Director

From Start-Up To Sustainability

Celebrating Five Years

Friends, 

The Hive—this community you’ve been a part of as a donor or member—is celebrating 5 years of community building and small group processes, ways that illuminate who we are inside and awaken us to serve the common good. Just think of how this community has impacted you and multiply that by the nearly 5,000 who’ve been through our doors or online opportunities!

We are celebrating and we are turning a crucial corner. This is a letter inviting you to join us in what is next. We hope you’ll sense the urgency, possibility, and vision enough to join us as we lean in. In these in-between times, now more than ever, the world needs brave space, a means to join others on the inner journey and out into the world with hope. Thanks, in advance, for your trim to read through this letter.

We had a great year programmatically when many, much larger systems have not been able to remain open. This is because of the generosity of our staff, leaders, and facilitators as well as the donors and members like you. 

In 2021, so far, we’ve welcomed 28 new members, sold nearly 1000 tickets, facilitated over 600 hours of courses, and given away over $10,000 in scholarships through “pay what you can” offerings. 

Beyond our classes, we have led the way for forming contemplative communities through antiracism training with a number of organizations, transformational leadership training with an area 500,000 member nonprofit, and expanded the Hive’s online programming both nationally and internationally. 

We are so thankful for your partnership taking us this far! We’re taking this 5th anniversary as an opportunity to take stock and to go into the future in sustainable ways. 

Moving from Start-Up to Sustainable: 

In early September a small group of Hive stakeholders (you’ll see their signatures below) met to review the last five years and discern what next steps we are willing to take together. This meant reevaluating our budget and renewing our priorities. 

Like most Start-Ups, the Hive’s launch and early success depended on countless hours of uncompensated and seriously undercompensated time of very talented people committed to incubating this sort of transformational community. To be sustainable and inclusive, the Hive needs to build a budget that doesn’t rely on staff and facilitators to continue to sacrifice their own financial stability. We have set a target to increase our operating budget of $100,000 to $250,000 over the next three years, to secure sustainable space and to develop additional revenue streams. 

This year’s revenue from tickets and membership is roughly $40,000 and the remaining revenue comes from gifts, grants and professional fees for providing classes and facilitation outside the Hive. You read that right, in order to barely sustain the Hive, outside income is necessary. We need broader ownership of the Hive’s mission and vision to thrive. 

Modest annual campaigns like in years past would only help us reach our current commitments, kicking the can down the curb another year. This fifth year, we are asking you to help us take the first step to move into a plan that is more sustainable. Our goal this Fall is to double this year’s annual campaign fundraising to $100,000. Increasing our annual campaign incrementally over the next few years will set us up for the following steps toward sustainability:

  • Reciprocity in Payment for High-Quality Offerings: An increase in donations would allow us to better compensate facilitators and staff while retaining quality and diversity of experience. Currently, our key staff members and facilitators volunteer twice as much time as we are able to pay them, even at a very modest rate. For our director and lead team to move to a wage comparable to other area nonprofits we would need to increase our current total personnel costs from $57,600 to $160,000, and total facilitator payments from $13,000 to at least $20,000. Your gifts can help us take steps in this direction.

  • Revenue Generation: We are developing a future-oriented revenue plan to increase awareness of the Hive, increase membership and support, as well as building out online services to provide consistent future revenue. A team is currently assessing business expansion to build online participation revenue. We have also been rebuilding a case for long-term grants in the years ahead.

  • Our Space: Meeting face to face matters. In addition to online community, a specific location enables us to welcome the stranger, develop partnerships, and impact neighbors in concrete ways. We are looking into buying and upgrading our current building or a suitable long-term alternative to give the Hive Community enduring roots. The success of our Annual Campaign will help inform the feasibility of a capital campaign for our space.

  • Right-Sizing: Each session there are courses that sell out, some with small attendance, and others that are cut due to low registration. We aim to refine our future course selections, as well as support and encourage longer-term cohorts, to ensure a more consistent Hive experience.

  • Multicultural Leadership: In addition to paying competitive wages to facilitators who cannot afford to teach at the Hive otherwise, we aim to build a scholarship fund to keep finances from being an obstacle for participation.

When you join the Hive as a member you are saying “I’m in” for this community. That membership payment makes it possible to plan from month to month. Your gift to the Annual Campaign, over and above membership or class fees, makes it possible for us to approach planning for longer-term sustainability.  

We invite you to learn more and co-create what the sustainability of the Hive looks like at a special meeting on Saturday, October 30th from 9-11am at the Hive (register here).

Take a minute to look up from this letter and recall an experience you’ve had with the Hive- the gift you’ve been for others and others have been for you. Think of a time you logged out of zoom and felt noticeably different, where you stepped out in brave conversation because of a class, where you shed tears of freedom at a discovery, where you faced fear and continued on. Sense into the unique sustenance this community continues to provide in these in-between, disorienting times for you and so many others. 

Consider how your resources are connected to this living system and how you might partner with us financially. (okay- go ahead and take three breaths before moving on)...

Keep the Gift Going

You and I are not alone, and we are not alone in this work. The combined gifts do add up to make something extraordinarily larger than the sum of the parts. Your gift works this way too. Hive members and donors have a wide range of resources -- only you know your capacity to help us reach this year’s annual campaign goal of $100,000. We simply invite you to consider how you can keep the gift of the Hive moving. 

If you have an annual practice of directed charitable giving, we ask you consider including the Hive in a considerable way (we also can provide support for matching giving from your employer, as well as foundations and trusts). If you’ve not given before, know that we are seeking 100 new donors in this period and hope you’ll consider being one of them. 

Thanks for taking the time to consider this. To give now, visit cincyhive.org/give

With Gratitude,


Hive Annual Fund Team: Troy Bronsink, Karen Ecker, Niki Pappas, Catherine Orsini, Adam Clark, Daniel Hughes, Chris McLaren, Geralyn Sparough, Chris LaRue.



What Do You See In Your Hands?

by Edward Goode, Hive Facilitator

Photos from participants in Contemplative Photography: Poetic Inspiration

Photos from participants in Contemplative Photography: Poetic Inspiration

It is amazing what can happen as people explore and share through the lens of a camera.  

For the last several years, I have been leading groups at The Hive focused (pun intended) on Contemplative Photography.  The current session is using poetry as the basis for our themes and our contemplative practice and discussion.  Our first poem was by Tracy K Smith entitled Song. The poem doesn’t necessarily speak of a literal musical song but instead reflects on memories of hands and what a person sees in the hands of another (or their own hands). At least, that was what emerged as our group talked through our experience of the poem and “hands” became what we were to capture through the lens.  

What emerged from the group was truly sacred, holy, deeply emotional, and honest.  I cannot go into the details of what was shared, but the group did give me permission to share the video and the photos.  What I can share is that there was an amazing depth of story seen and shared in just the ways that we saw and experienced hands.  

There were stories of past struggles and questions about current ones... stories of joys and hopes... intimate insights into peoples’ lives and hands seen in unique ways...  a funny story of capturing a photo of a hand on a crosswalk light and stories of the responses of random strangers when one asked to take a photo of their hands.  There were hands of the young, of the aged, of different races, and backgrounds... literal hands and figurative ones.  And a series of photos that told a story that emerged over a long period of years.  

In the conversation there were times of talking and sharing and moments of silence and stillness. There was emotion of loss and pain and laughter and joy.  In short, in the fifty-nine hands in the photos was the fullness of life - birth to death and so much in between.

That is the power of what happens when we are looking, when we are seeking to see deeply.  

Click here to view a slideshow of these photos along with a reading of Tracy K Smith’s poem, Song.

A Note of Encouragement

A Note from the Hive Lead Team

Photo taken by Cassandra Zetta

Photo taken by Cassandra Zetta

How are you?

As the lead team of the Hive met today
we were overwhelmed with compassion
for you all— everyone holding so much these days!
Speaking with facilitators, members, and donors
we recognize how tiring this all is!
We feel it in our bodies too:
the difficulty prioritizing,
how uninteresting the word "unprecedented" has become,
how hungry we are all for full-body hugs,
off-the-cuff coffees, and lingering dinners together,
and the gnawing realization that,
while the election may be closing tonight,
it won't likely feel over for a good long while.

If we've done anything for the last four years it's been
to learn how to stay centered in tough situations,
to keep faith,
to seek the common good,
to find outer and inner healing,
to center voices that fight to be heard elsewhere,
to make beautiful things,
and to chose love, over and over, again and again.

We just thought you deserved a note saying,
hang in there!

We promise to stay in touch.
We've got each other.

The Mineshaft of Presence

by Chris La Rue, Hive Intern

Photo by Gigi on Unsplash

Photo by Gigi on Unsplash

Chris La Rue is a summer intern with us at the Hive. In addition to his kindness and helpfulness, Chris brings a robust inner-life to his work and some hidden skills as a poet and songwriter. He shared the following poem as an offering for our blog. It describes the journey between the inner landscape of our lives and outer landscapes where so much is learned, through the metaphor of a miner entering the mine shafts and caves and meeting others along the way. This poem ends in harmony with Merton and Rumi, more seasoned contemplatives who teach us to notice the shimmering qualities of our own very lives! We’ll share some of that poem here, in hopes that it encourages you to keep digging and learning as well:


I sink deeper into the mineshaft of presence with each passing breath.

I pass by the workers, creations of my ego that were conceived 

that one time I felt pain and did what I could to avoid it.

A breath.

My rope extends.

I drop, passing another worker.

The bottom of my exhale catches me.

And so it goes.

Sometimes I bring gifts down this mineshaft;

Those deposits of truth and wisdom I hear in this world.

They start out as rocks at the top.

But as I descend, they transform.

With each breath, the rocks begin to shine.

A metamorphosis of rock to diamond.

Growing, growing, growing.

I’m never sure how deep I need to go to gift this diamond to myself.

But there’s this old trick the Spirit taught me:

“You’ll know you're close when one of the workers whispers, ‘Those on the surface need this diamond more than you do!’ That worker will be convincing. That worker might even use my words to convince you to give that diamond away before you receive it. But take a few more breaths.”

This diamond has now grown to shine like the sun.

And I can’t help but think, 

“Oh, imagine what esteem would be mine if I gifted this away now…”

But then I remember that old trick the Spirit taught me.

A breath, taking the effort of a thousand.

My rope extends.

I drop, passing that whispering worker.

And I gasp.

For my diamond is gone.

Stillness.

I quietly rise to the surface, and by the time I’ve gotten back,

I’ve forgotten entirely about that diamond.

I’m greeted by a friend at the surface.

Their awestruck gaze is met by my confusion.

“My friend,” they say,

“Do you know that your body is shining like the sun?”

The Practice of Pursuing Beauty

by Edward Goode, Hive Facilitator

photo by Edward Goode

photo by Edward Goode

It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are thoroughly alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger after them. -George Elliot (Mary Ann Evans)

American Beauty (1999) includes one of my favorite movie scenes ever.( https://bit.ly/hive-beauty) .  It is simply two people watching a recording of a plastic bag blowing around in the wind on a blustery day.  One line has never left me from this scene, “Sometimes there’s so much beauty in the world…I feel like I can’t take it.”

I have gone back to that scene so many times, especially with the context of the movie.  Two teenagers, both of whom are in the midst of massive conflict and dysfunction in their respective families, and one sensing how much beauty there is in the world that he can’t even take it.  

That scene from over 20 years ago sparked something in me that has only started to bloom in recent years – a deep and abiding passion for seeing and sharing beauty.  Even or especially in times of deep distress and struggle.  It manifests most through the lens of my camera in a daily practice to capture and share beauty for myself and with others. 

With so much conflict, anxiety, struggle, and sickness in the world, beauty has never left.  Beauty is just as much the stunning blooms of daisies and columbine that are near their peak right now in Glenwood Gardens as it is the plastic bag blowing in the wind.  Beauty is felt in the touch of a dear one’s hand on ours as it is in the gentle breeze on a long walk.  Beauty is heard in the voice of a special someone or in the melodic sounds that touch us deeply.  

Beauty is so necessary in these days of sequestering and fear and anger.  Even though we now have new terms like social distancing or the ongoing news cycle of unrest, beauty has never left and is more essential than ever.  Whether you are going out for a walk or in your home, where can you find beauty? 

Sometimes it will just appear but more often, we need to look.  Where will you not only observe it but where will you record it so that you will have that remembrance just as the young man continued to replay the old VHS tape of the bag blowing in the wind.  

Sometimes, there’s so much beauty in the world…I just can’t take it in.