The heat barreled over the fields making each breath feel heavy in its weight. The day was quickly passing, yet the sun was still high in the summer sky. We quickened our pace down the freeway to our exit that would direct us to the small deserted farm road that we now refer to as the Road Less Traveled. Excitement grew between Duncan and me as we had been planning our Sunflower adventure for a few weeks. The last time checked upon the field was bright in color, filled with the tall 
powerful stalkiness of the sunflowers.
However schedules did not permit us to visit the field and the summer heat had
quickly taken its toll upon the once massive flowers we longed to parade in and develop a Tantric session around. Once focused on 
the blooming flowers and the 3rd chakra along with the power of not only mother Earth but the sun as well, we now found ourselves amidst a field of sunflowers begging to be harvested. They drooped in the afternoon heat, the earth cracking apart beneath their leaves and losing her grip on their roots. At first there came a feeling of loss over me. How beautiful the session would have been if we had not waited, how dry and non-colorful the field looked now. I wondered if our time and ideas had all been lost. But as I turned and looked into Duncan’s sparkling green eyes, I could see his inner child awakening. There was but only one comment from him that shared my feeling of loss and then he quickly diverted his energy into manifesting and harvesting another Divine Adventure.
Standing at the back of the jeep, I slowly was guided in revealing
myself as god had created me. Bear, beautiful and full of life. I could feel
the great mother’s energy coming up through me, rooting directly to my core, to
my heart. Deep breaths relaxed me as the hot summer breeze swirled around and made small dust cyclones on the Road Less Traveled. Butterflies danced in lovemaking among the tall spears of grass and Duncan, large smile gleaming from his face as he opened the Crayola Finger paints.
Hmmm…he looked at my flesh as though I was a canvas and he was a kindergarten boy eagerly awaiting the teachers go ahead to get messy and
creative.
Yellow, then red.
A large flower center was being created upon my chest and bosom. Then the yellow petals would have to be formed, the cool paint and his fingers gliding across my warm flesh caused chills to shoot up my spine. Once he had painted a large sunflower on my 
front he grabbed the green paint. It was time for the leaves and stem. Brushing across my abdomen and over my hips, leaves were opening themselves to the afternoon sun on my very flesh. His artist’s fingers danced and swirled down my thighs, calves and ankles. Moments later he had happily made his way to my back side, yellow and red paints in hand again. This time I could feel him painting the centers of many flowers on my back, then the petals, leaves and grasses had to formed. Duncan’s motions changed during the process. He went from the youthful finger painter to an ancient warrior painter as he created the grasses that covered my rear and back of my legs. Stepping back he examined his work. Then proceeded to move forward in the moment and ask me if I were ready to explore the field?
The dirt cracked in the baking sun with each step. My feet were singed to the earth’s crust, feeling as though I was walking across hot coals I could not make up my mind weather faster or slower movement was better. Once adrift in the middle of the sunflowers my feet found refuge in the shade of some leaves. Grasshoppers skipped by the dozens from stalk to stalk, creating their beautiful grasshopper music that merged with the locust chirp. The wind blew across the field, Duncan and I looked out over the drooping flowers. They seemed so sad as they finished their journey in this life. We wondered what or even if they would be harvest for.
Perhaps oil?
A sea of trodden weeping flowers, waiting for their rebirth. Much like mankind, each flower growing where it was planted, some sharing seeds and pollen with passer bys who would carry it and plant seedlings in new lands. Dependant on the earth and on controlled 
environment and feeding schedules of the farmers, each sunflower a captive in its own field of gold. Moments passing, the rising of the sun, the setting of the moon, a thunderstorm that blows in grasses to share the soil and maybe even a drink of rain water. The once proud, strong and full of life green stems and leaves now covered in age and dust. The yellow glowing faces that turned and smiled in the sun light now almost stripped barren of their
beautiful petal mains. The dark center where all of life for its kind was once housed now taken over by bugs who drained the last bit of life energy from its
mini universe.
Walking through the sunflower field my hands washing across the tops of each plant, I could not help but look at the parallels of this world longing to be harvested and re-birthed and that of my own.
Years pass, time takes its toll on our physical bodies. Our relationships change, our children come and grow, then venture off to new lands without us. Many of us find ourselves trapped in a job that pays our bills and supports our livelihood but does not contribute to our passion. Our purpose. We are prisoners, enslaved to the dollar bill and the environment it helps maintain for us. Our prison guards are those “bosses” and laws/rules that tell us how to do our jobs, what to be enthusiastic about and how pleasurable our lives can be. We are tied down to the tracks of the 1% reality with a wooden horse full of nightmares headed right at us. At the end of our lives we may have saved some money, we may have purchased a house and even done some world travel. Perhaps we maintained a marriage of 30 years or perhaps we married and divorced five times. When the sun sets on our lives we too find ourselves like these very sunflowers, our bodies weak and graying, our once proud demeanor now humbled by the need to be cared for like a small child and the life that once held the potential of the universe in its very hands and dreams now the haven to fear of the passing and regret of the past.
Holding onto memories, not wanting to let out of our grasp a moment in time, hoping that if we can but only slow time down then we could enjoy life, then we would be happier, more fulfilled and able to truly open up to love. But time does not wait for any of us and moments keep on moving. We were never intended to hold on, but instead to transform. To awaken to the beauty of the harvest season of life and the re-birth of our soul.
There is a time to rend and a time to sew; Live today, allow your beautiful petals to bask in the sunshine of your life. No matter how difficult it may appear to be or how incredible it may seem, awaken to your true purpose. Heal, Love and Transform! Be the ripple in the energy current of the world that opens the doorway of a new reality for all.
Plant, Tend, Harvest your dreams. Your REALITY!
*View the full gallery of Sunflower pictures on the Photo Tab.
*Read about Playing On The Road Less Traveled (our grounding adventure)