The Daisy

The following passage came to me in a meditation. It was so clear and vivid that I knew I had to write it down.

Pollen floats about, flies without an obvious care in the world, and at some point will pollinate. And when the time is right, a seed will fall to the ground.

As this seed I am dormant, and yet alive. I know the world through a stationary sense. The darkness that I slip into is my world, and yet I am dead to it. I think I am alive, and the days and nights that pass overhead certainly look like life to me. I may even be picked up by the wind, carried about to meet other seeds. We shall certainly commend each other, content at how wholesome we are, how safe we are in our shells.

But I will remain locked in a shell. An inner yearning, a compulsion that I cannot explain drives me onward. Sometimes I resist the wind and at other times I am carried by it willingly; for you see I believe that this wind is my life, that the shell the extent of who I am. I believe that the wind is destiny and that my fate is in the hands of natural chaos.

And then one day I fall to the ground. I have reached a breaking point, of sorts. The inner questioning burns within, and yet I see no fire. The spark of life burns within me and I suddenly realize I am dead to it. I sink into the earth and in a manner that only an Infinite consciousness could conceive I find myself unable to see anymore for all the darkness.

In this darkness I fall silent. I look within and question the spark that I now sense. The spark begins to ignite, but there is no flame, only a hunger. What lies beyond this shell? The limit of my awareness suddenly falters, and for the first time in this existence of mine I suddenly realize that I am more than a seed caught within a shell.

Numerous feet suddenly sprout from beneath my body, my core. Stretching the many toes I suddenly feel, I wiggle them deeper, until my legs relax, my feet feel certain, and my toes find nourishment. In the deepest darkness my enquiry brings me at last to an understanding – I must reach upward, outward.

My awareness lifts, awareness searching above. I am surrounded by darkness but I know there is something beyond. Something within me compels me to raise my head, uncoil my body, and to forge on. My resolve is fueled by the darkness all around, my feet, my roots, press upon it, and provides the foundation that now propels me outward. The weight of the world is almost unbearable. I feel like I have hit a breaking point, as I cannot keep going. And yet quite to my own surprise strength within me that I didn’t know I had energizes me in one last effort. The beauty of experience is understood and in a flash a finger I break through the soil’s surface.

In a sudden rush I am blinded by sunlight: Such energy, such intensity. For a moment I recoil out of shock, almost unable to comprehend the contrast, and yet the light that now beats upon me is as necessary as the darkness that forms the foundation about my roots.

I am growing now. As I sprout upward the deeper my roots dig into the darkness the higher I can reach. The light grows closer, yet the light has no meaning in this experience without the darkness. I drink the sun as it bathes me. I feel its energy course though me even as I stretch my roots deeper still to drink from the earth. All is necessary as I grow. Every stretch downward and upward complete who I am.

Suddenly I realize that my head is expanding. The growth I sense about me has been slowly working its way around my mind. As I enquire within I am reassured. I forget what is happening; the cycles of the sun and breezy nights wage a dulcet and lulling dance with the water of the earth drawn through my feet. I continue to live, to grow, unable to specifically articulate what is happening to my head.

And then I look up again. Suddenly I am filling with a sensation that was a compelling as the first time my head broke through the soil. White petals now unfurl about me, like sheets drying on the wind. I see a yellow glow and realize that my head is now a clustered core, the centre of the petals that reach outward. I marvel even as the breeze does more to move me than ever before. Like a billowing tent I am now, more than ever, subject to the physical movement of the wind about me; yet, I remain clear. The sun calls; the earth’s drink and coolness remind me of who I am. I find an indescribable strength in this.

Cycles of sun and moon pass me by. I celebrate the knowing of this moment. What was a spark within me has started to fulfill itself; it has begun to be. I struggle to articulate what this means, but I find peace in it nonetheless. I can remember all I have experienced, and it strengthens me, and my resolve grows even as my attachment diminishes. And at the moment I release myself to this peace my petals begin to feel weak.

For so long the wind swayed and soothed me, but now it wracks me, pulls me apart. For a moment I panic. Petals begin to sail away. And yet I am suddenly aware. My awareness expands and as I focus I suddenly realize that I am seeing through each petal just as I am the core. I float, I sway, and float in many ways. Some parts of me land close by, others float for longer distances. But I suddenly realize that each petal is returning to the earth. Nourishment will be returned to that which allowed me to expand. The cycle of energy will allow others to reach as I did, support them in their journey.

And then I am petal-less. But I know something special is about to happen. My head shakes suddenly, and for a brief violent moment I realize that a gust of wind is lifting me. I fall upward, away, drawn in thousands of directions at once. I am pollen now, so many particles floating. The wind carries me, and yet within I remember the journey I have taken. Each part of me is now carried with abandon to many places.

With joy I encounter many other flowers, I fall to the ground, and I float on to new and distant lands. With joy I return to whence I came, gifting Nature with the expression that I once was.

(c) Copyright, 2010, Carmien Owen