Dancing Sunflowers

My fascination with sunflowers began several years ago while traveling through the Italian countryside with my husband.  We would start out early each morning meandering from village to village visiting family.  Often we would pass fields of sunflowers with their faces lifted to the morning light and gracefully waving their greetings as we drove by. 

We cherished that time with our extended family.  The hours were spent surrounded by warmth, laughter, and love.  Eventually the time would come when we would reluctantly say our goodbyes and once again travel along the roads as they curved through rural Italy.  Inevitably we would  find ourselves passing those same fields of sunflowers now facing west as each and every flower continued to stand tall and lift its face to the sun. 

As I gazed over those peaceful fields I realized that beneath their serenity lay strength. There would be times when dark clouds would force their way in and attempt to cover the light.  Storms would hurtle their way through those fields, winds would howl and thrash those flowers about as driving rain would attempt to beat them down.  They would need to dig in and trust that their roots would hold them steadfast throughout the chaos. They would need to lean on the other, each flower both supporting and being supported by the others around it.  Through that dark time each flower would still seek the light, and when the storm passed each flower would once again lift its face to the sun.  

There are lessons I have learned from those sunflowers.  When the winds of change hurtle me into chaos I strive to find the pieces of light.  The light is always there, but appears in a myriad of forms and is sometimes difficult to recognize.  It is in the  whisper of a firefly in the night or the small voice inside of me that says, “Yes, you can.”  It comes with the exuberance of fireworks that explode  above us on a summer night and with the energy of finally believing that inner voice now shouting, “Yes, you can!”  It also comes with a sunset that paints the sky with a golden light and with the quiet yet proud voice that says, “Yes, you did.”  I recognize it in the chorus of light that dances across the water.  I see it again as I join the chorus line of loved ones, each holding onto one another, supporting one another, and then, with arms linked, kicking up our heels and dancing in the spotlight that comes from above. 

The winds of change have tossed me about this year, but there has always been the light.  That inner voice persistently repeating, “Yes, you can.”  Those loved ones who dragged me into the spotlight and supported me so I can kick up my heels.  It's time not only to seek the light, to find the light, but to dance in it as well.