Near the Full Flower Moon in May as I awakened my field of vision was white with black lines darting about reminiscent of the beginning and ending of old 16 mm home movies. The lines came together to form a slowly rotating sunflower. The face of the sunflower rotated on the stem at an angle in a way a drawing cannot convey.
The continually rotating face of the sunflower meant no side was left in the dark, no part of the circle failed to be exposed to the light. I thought of the ramifications of this in relation to the shadow, personally and collectively.
The center of the sunflower held a grid. Five nights prior I saw a grid of light in the stars. It’s coppery-orange colors covered my visual field. I knew I was seeing into the center of a daisy.
I thought of grids on which patterns are laid, old school graph paper used in architectural design and the energy grid running the world. The words “In the beginning” came to mind followed by “In this New Beginning.”
I took “Nature Speaks” by Ted Andrews off the shelf and read the face of the sunflower turns throughout the day so that it always faces the sun. This was the rotation I had seen of which I did not previously know. I read further. Sunflowers carry the masculine forces of the universe yet black of which the lines were made is related to the feminine’s creative and intuitive energies, mystery to me. White reflects Truth and messages from the spirit world.
For me, this felt true. I was shown a Truth from Spirit. The feminine is informing the masculine which in turn takes action. The two are joining in creating a new grid for this time in a way that hasn’t happened prior. On this grid we can place patterns we desire, patterns informed by Light.
With all the debate and arguing about energy resources, with our taking from and taxing Mother Earth more than ever, this new grid to which we have access is about a universal energy grid that lobbyists can’t control nor can politicians and political wannabes debate.
This vision held a very personal message for me. This particular morning thanks to early birds singing outside and Jerry’s gentle snoring inside, I got up to see sunrise something I had not done in a month at least. I bowed to the East knowing the sun was behind my neighbor’s house and the leafed out trees. Then I lay down on the futon and watched white cloud puffs turn pink. Then the sunflower vision came with a message personally for me, a message of keeping my face turned toward the sun so I can see into my own personal shadows