Understanding Sunflowers

Understanding Sunflowers

What I have noticed about self-reflection and observations is that there is a part of me that evaluates what I learn – knowledge – against what I actually observe – being – in relation to that knowledge. If there is discrepancy between my knowledge and being, I continue gathering knowledge and make further observations until the discrepancy between them vanishes and I reach understanding.

For example, somewhere during my childhood, I was taught that sunflowers follow the direction of the sun across the sky from east to west each day. But until I observed throughout the course of the day a garden of sunflowers and their relative position to the sun, this knowledge resided only in my intellectual center. After I had observed this phenomenon with my being and evaluated it against my knowledge, I was able to connect and verify my knowledge with the observation and reach a new level of understanding.

When the sun of consciousness first shone upon me, behold a miracle! —Helen Keller

Sometimes this same experience happens in reverse. Let us say I observe each day that the sunflowers in my garden move with the direction of the sun. This might create a question in me about how nature does that. I might hold on to that question – sometimes for many years – and then eventually I learn something that reveals the mystery and gives understanding to what I had observed. In this case my knowledge catches up with my being to produce understanding.

The body has a head that doesn’t understand the secret of the order of Be. —Rumi

This may sound too simplistic but my knowledge and being zigzag; as one grows the other catches up and then when they are balanced in a certain way, understanding emerges. The longer I have lived with a question, the deeper and more satisfying it is to receive understanding.

Consciousness is a never-ending shower of celestial light. — The Teacher

Recently, I have found out more about the mystery of the sunflower’s journey. This knowledge came and illuminated a question I had not even thought of: How does the sunflower facing west at the end of the day get back to the east in order to start again the next morning with the eastern sunrise?

Begin at once to live, and count each separate day as a separate life. —Seneca

An invisible miracle occurs all night long. The stem of the sunflower does not grow equally. The sunflower’s head is pushed toward the sun because the stem supporting it gets longer on the east side during the day. At nightfall, it begins its journey back and the stem elongates on the west side, which swings the sunflower’s head back to the east in preparation for morning. Heliotropism, which is directional growth in response to the sun, is a part of the internal biological clock of the sunflower which influences its growth and predicts the sunrise. The name comes from the Greek words for “sun” (helios) and “turn” (tropos).

All the efforts of the human mind cannot exhaust the essence of a single fly. —Thomas Aquinas

Once the sunflower is mature, its growth slows down and the plant stops tracking the sun and settles on the east side, which helps it attract pollinators. The question I am living now is how does the sunflower know that the east side position attracts more pollinators?

Rilke reminds us to “live the questions.” All of these questions and experiences inspired my thoughts on a psychological level. Am I aware of the daily miracles around and within me? What is the relationship between me and the sun? What is the equivalent of my internal sun? Can I position myself toward the “light” in a way that inspires enlightenment? And what or who are these mysterious pollinators?

We are the bees of the invisible. We wildly collect the honey of the visible, to store it in the great golden hive of the invisible. — Rainer Maria Rilke

Let those “bees” pollinate your understanding and position yourself like the sunflower to receive light and higher influences.

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