"Meeting with Earthly Suns"

Last year, on a Tuesday afternoon, I found myself drawn to the third floor of the company by the scent of incense, like the child in the story following breadcrumbs through the forest. The instructor had prescribed relaxation, but my aching shoulder had other plans. That hour of yoga is one of those rare moments I wish could last forever, much like the soothing hour of a massage, the quiet hour of writing, or the healing hour of therapy—those precious times when we allow our body and soul to stretch, unwind, and simply be.

She challenged us with tougher poses. In each pose, I savored that exquisite moment when, after settling into the position, despite the pain and the stretch, you give the muscle one last gentle push, and it finally settles into place... renewed, elongated, and full of life.

I adore the poses that remind me of a child at play. We cradle our legs like a baby and gently rock, or we fold ourselves to the ground, or curl up into a fetal position. When the instructor says "baby pose," my muscles instinctively smile and release, like a carefree child lost in blissful abandon.

Once we’d moved through all the poses, the instructor always guided us through a different meditation. This time, she told us to imagine ourselves in a field of sunflowers. Can you imagine? In the middle of a workday, pulling yourself away from all the stress and worries, and transporting yourself to a field of sunflowers, where each blossom tilts toward the sun. They wake facing east, follow the sun’s journey across the sky with their golden petals, and at night, they quietly turn back to the east, ready for dawn’s light.

How have they become so one with the sun that they even mirror its very form? When I arrived at the field, it was midday, and the flowers were standing tall, stretching toward the heart of the sky. I embraced a few of them, both small and large, feeling the rough texture of their fuzzy stems and leaves. I buried my face in the damp, seed-filled center of a blossom and kissed it. Have you ever hugged a sunflower? It feels like holding a small piece of the sun in your arms. Then the instructor told us to find a spot in their shade, where the flowers had gently bowed, and to sit there. I found a stone to sit on, and the tallest sunflower lowered itself until its shade covered my head.

I wrapped my arms around its sturdy neck, embracing the earth, sun, and water all at once. Filled with the eternal warmth of the sun, with golden light dancing in our eyes, we emerged from the meditation. All our anxieties had been left behind, scattered among the slanting rays of the sun.

We had to return to the third floor of the company... but we returned feeling lighter, more alive, with the innocent smile of a child.

This year, without even recalling that meditation with the sunflowers, after being reminded of one of my stories where I visited a sunflower field with the character, I was invited to go see real sunflowers in August, when these earthly suns are in full bloom. It was amazing.

The landscape stretched out in endless green and yellow. The sky was partly cloudy, and the sunflowers seemed hesitant in their direction, uncertain of which way to turn toward the sun. Each sunflower, with its golden yellow petals and generous green stems, stood like a sun facing the sun itself. I stroked their tall stems, touched their prominent faces, and the fuzz on their stems and the weight of their seeds captivated my heart in the most extraordinary way. The younger ones were shorter, while the older, taller ones had grown beyond my reach.

I wanted to ask how they turn back toward the east at night under the light of the moon, so they don’t miss the sun’s journey at dawn. And why do they love to remain warm and radiant, bringing endless joy to the bees and butterflies? Dreams come true

If you ever visit these sun-like flowers, embrace them on behalf of all the humans on earth. Become one with the light, water, and sun, so that your heart and soul are filled with the unmatched beauty of this nature.