The endless yellow fields of blooming sunflowers are like an invitation to flight and inspiration. They are like a reflection of the sun—a materialised expression of infinite faith and optimism. Yellow speaks so loudly that I obey without hesitation. The sunflowers have bowed their heads, but not as a sign of obedience.
When sunflowers bow their heads, it is because they cannot bear the weight of the sun they carry. It is because no living being can withstand the gaze of a sunflower that radiates the sun itself. No mortal can look directly into the eyes of that little yellow sun. When sunflowers bow their heads, it is not because they have been conquered or defeated, but because they are full of love and mercy for those around them—a mercy that chooses not to burn, but to protect, and to preserve life.
I am a living being, open to the new, the different and to change, open to love in all its forms. Yet I remain free from all of it. I am ready to begin again, ready to reflect the sun-filled yellow fields that will drive the darkness out of me.
You tell me that I am already fully formed and that there is no hope for me. You try to convince me that I have been shaped wrongly so that I can fit only into your world, where you are the master. You tell me that everything within me is already finished and that I can no longer grow in a direction that leads to my freedom. You see no path of development that could lead me to liberation. And you call this love.
You want me to believe this so that I will depend on you for everything—for my pain, my suffering, my joy and my hopes. You want me to think that I am broken and that only you can teach me how to become whole and independent again. But that is exactly what I want—to become whole and independent. To be like a blank sheet of paper on which I can write my life again. To be like a sunflower with its head held high.
That is why I said to Him:
"Allow me, God, to go back and write my story again. Help me, God, to rewrite my life and my dreams. Without the mistakes. Without the tears. Without the pain. Help me become like a newborn blank page on which there are no mistakes and no corrections. Is a life without mistakes, corrections and forgiveness even possible? God, let us make a deal. Let my present life be the first draft of the next one. Do You accept the deal, God?"
"Give me a new name, God, so that I may begin again."
He told me that He had already given me a name and that my name had become whatever I had made of it. It was up to me whether I covered it with honour or with shame, with nobility or with pettiness.
"Give me a new body, God, so that I may begin again."
But He replied that He had already given me everything I needed. He had given me a healthy body that I was free to use as I wished. I could teach it to work hard and bring goodness both to myself and to others. I could teach it the luxury of laziness and the pursuit of physical pleasure. I could sell it for money so that others could use it as a weapon or as a source of forbidden pleasure. I could teach it to fight for justice, against injustice, against immorality and against the absence of love. I could even crucify my body as a witness to self-sacrifice for the sake of my ideals.
"Give me a new face, God, so that I may begin again."
He replied that He had already given me a face—a face honest enough. It was up to me to protect it from shame.
"Give me strength, God, so that I may begin again."
He said that He had already given me a spirit—a part of His own Spirit. It was up to me to make it strong and peaceful. It was up to me to make my spirit my truest weapon.
"Give me a voice, God, so that I may speak."
He whispered that I already had a voice. It was up to me whether I used it to speak for myself or on behalf of those who did not have that privilege. It depended on me whether my voice became a whisper or a cry.
For when pain is greatest, change becomes most profound.
You fell to your knees and asked for forgiveness. You asked me to forgive you for using me as your inspiration and comfort while turning me into a bird in a cage that you opened only when it suited your own needs. You asked for forgiveness because now you were the one who was weak and broken, begging for a chance to begin again. And the cage had turned me into a sunflower with a bowed head.
Once again I turned to Him.
"Help me, God, to regain my sense of wonder for life, even now when life is no longer new but infinitely more precious. Help me understand the different languages of life—the language of love, compassion, mercy, innocence and purity. Help me speak these languages: the language of eternal love and the language of the true heart, for only the heart can carry eternity within itself. Help me preserve my longing for both the pleasures of the body and those of the spirit, this eternal struggle between them. Do not leave my senses without nourishment. Help me rise to the height of forgiveness."
Then I turned to you and forgave you. I forgave you for the absence of love. Because what you called love was only love for yourself—it never reached me. Your love kept my head bowed in obedience. I forgave you because I no longer needed such love. I forgave you with my head held high and with my lips boldly speaking words of freedom from you.
The endless yellow fields of blooming sunflowers have lifted their heads proudly towards the sky. Towards endless possibilities. Towards the sunlight. Towards the stars.
When sunflowers lift their heads, it is because their pain has become so great that it gives birth to resistance and rebellion. The rebellion of the sunflowers is like a solar explosion from which only the brave and the truthful survive. When sunflowers raise their heads, every false truth and every false love dies.
When sunflowers lift their heads, it is time to be born again from their own stardust.
Because no one can conquer the sun.
(Elena S. Lyubenova)
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