WHEN THE SUNFLOWERS RAISE THEIR HEADS

The endless yellow fields of blooming sunflowers are like an invitation for flight and inspiration. They are like a reflection of the sun as a materialised infinite faith and optimism. Yellow speaks so loudly that I obey without hesitation. The sunflowers have bent their heads down, but not as a sign of obedience.

When the sunflowers bend their heads, it is because they can not bear the weight of the sun they carry. It is because nobody alive can meet the look of sunflower emitting the sun. No mortal can stand to look directly into the eyes of the small yellow sun. When the sunflowers bend their heads, it is not because they are conquered and defeated, but because they are full of love and mercy towards the neighbor. A mercy not to burn it, but to protect it, and to remain alive.

I am a biological state, open to the new, different, to the change, open to love in all its manifestations. But I am free of all this. I am ready to start from the beginning, ready to reflect the sun-yellow fields that will distract the darkness in me.

You tell me that I am already developed and that there is no hope for me. You're trying to tell me I'm developed wrongly so I can only fit into your world where you're the master. You tell me that everything in me is already over and it is not possible to be developed in a direction that leads to my liberation. You do not see for me a direction of development that leads to my freedom. And you call this love.

You want to instill me this in order to depend on you in everything. To depend on you my pain, my suffering, my joy and my hopes. You want me to think I'm broken and only you can teach me how to be whole and independent again. Because that's what I want - to be whole and independent. To be like a blank sheet on which I can write my life again. To be like a sunflower with a head upright.

That's why I told Him.
Allow me, God, to go back and write my story again. Help me, God, to write myself, my life and my dreams again. Without the mistakes. Without the tears. Without the pain. Help me to become like a newborn blank sheet, where the mistakes and the corrections are missing. Life without errors, corrections and forgiveness, is it possible? God, let's make a deal. May my present life be a draft for the next one. Do you accept the deal, God?

Give me a new name, God, to begin with.
He told me he had given me already a name. And that my name is what I did from it. It is up to me to cover it with honor or with shame, with meanness or pride.

Give me a new body, God, to begin with.
But He replied that he had already given me everything I needed. He gave me a healthy body that I can use as I wish. I can teach it to labour and to bring good things to me and to the others. I can teach it the luxury of laziness and body pleasures. I can sell it for money to other people to use it as a weapon or as a source of forbidden pleasures. I can teach it to fight for itself, to rebel against any injustice, any lack of morality, and lack of love. I can even crucify my body on the cross as evidence of self-sacrifice for some ideals.

Give me a new face, God, to begin with.
He replied that he had already given me a face, a fairly honest face. It is up to me to protect it from the shame.

Give me strength, God, to start over.
He said he gave me a spirit, of His own spirit. And it's up to me to make it strong and calm. It is up to me that my spirit is my most honest weapon.

Give me a voice, God, so I can speak.
He whispered to me that I already had a voice. And it is up to me whether I will use this voice to speak for myself or to talk on behalf of the others who do not have this privilege. It depends on me if my voice will be a whisper or a shout.

For when the pain is strongest, then the change is the most significant.

You fell on your knees and asked for forgiveness. You asked forgiveness from me for using me as inspiration and comfort, turning me into a bird in a cage that you opened only for your own needs. You asked me for forgiveness, because now you were the one who was weak and broken, the begging to start over. And the cage turned me into a sunflower with a bended head.

I turned again to Him.
Help me, God, to return my astonishment for life. Even now, when it's not new, but much more precious. Help me to understand the different languages ​​of life. The language of love, of compassion, of mercy, of naivety, of purity. Help me to speak these languages ​​- the language of eternal love, the language of the true heart, for we can only guarantee for the eternity of our heart. Help me to preserve the longing for the pleasures of the body and the spirit, this eternal fight. Do not leave me, God, without food for my senses. Help me to be at the height of the forgiveness.

I faced you and I forgave you. I forgave you for the lack of love. Because what you called love was love for you only, but it did not reach me. Your love held my head bent and obedient. I forgave you because I did not need such love. I forgave you with head raised proudly and mouth boldly speaking words of denial from you.

The endless yellow fields of blooming sunflowers have raised their heads boldly upward. Up to the endless possibilities and to the sunshine. Up to the stellar horizon.

When the sunflowers get their heads up, it's because their pain is so strong that it gives rise to resistance and rebellion. The rebellion of sunflowers is like a solar blast, from which only the brave and true survive. When the sunflowers turn their heads up, every false truth and love dies.

When the sunflowers get their heads up, it's time to be born again of their stardust.

Because no one can subdue the sun. 

 

(Elena S. Lyubenova)