Flowers Know What They Want
What does my own heart want, deeply, madly and without reservation?
In my morning summer garden, with the rays of the rising sun coming through the trees and illuminating the deep magenta color of the dew-kissed bee balm, I can see the bees are already deeply engaged in their sweet nectar. The bee balm’s petals are thoroughly sprinkled with pollen, and they are radiating satisfaction like they have spent a night with a mythic lover. Their zesty, heady aroma attracts both bees and butterflies who dive deep into their tubular nectar-rich flowers and the bees often wiggle their bottoms as they dance all over the face of the bee balms’ wombs. They visit early, often, and stay long, barely able to wobble their wings when they leave, flying low and heavy, laden with the gifts the bee balm has given them.
The early morning sunshine poured down on the bee balm’s petals, teasing them further open. Hearing the bees’ wings pulsating, and feeling their vibrations rippling through the air, the bee balm felt that familiar longing for the bee to come close, to bring their furry legs to tickle and stimulate their pollen-bearing stamens. The desire was so strong that they felt their nectar thickening and pushing up as their fragrance deepened, becoming a siren call to the bee, letting them know they were ready, ripe, and open.
The bee, for their part, felt a magnetic-like pull—a spiraling vortex coming from the bee balm. Their vibrant colors and rich fragrance always triggered a hunger they had known deep in their DNA for millennia. Their only thoughts were for what awaited th
em in the depths of the bee balm’s tubular openings.
Far from being taken advantage of, this is what bee balm longs for. Their beloved bees spread their pollen to the wider world while bringing them the new pollen that they yearn for. They are choosy maidens and mothers, and any pollen that is not the perfect match does not make it past the mouth of their womb. Like all flowers, they choose what pollen to accept, and reject any that are not a love match, not the right genetic mate, or when they are not able to provide the right resources to produce viable seed. They can recognize their own pollen and reject it as well.
When I contemplate the microscopic world of the flower’s reproductive life, I can sometimes feel myself becoming very small, like Alice in Wonderland, or more particularly, like a bee. Inside the flower I can feel their pulsating life all around me, their desire, and an overwhelming feeling of vibrant aliveness and gratitude flows through me. I imagine that I am sharing my own life force energy, my heart’s love, with them as I receive theirs. To envision them from the inside, knowing that they are choosing the perfect pollen for their seed, leaves me in awe at the tremendous intricacy and vast intelligence embedded in their desire.
Scientists are just barely beginning to understand the intricacies of how, over millions of years of evolution, the flowers have developed the ability to recognize one pollen grain from another and who to let in and who not to let in. It seems simple in principle, but evidently the genetic details are quite staggering. What about this process, especially on the energetic level of love and Eros, are we not yet able to grasp the importance of in our science labs?
What happens when this life force energy of desire and Eros is left out of the equation in creating a seed? Can the seed be as strong and viable as it should be? What happens when we bioengineer seeds in a lab? Are they sustainable in the long term for thousands or millions of generations? Can they serve the long story of their species?
Today, the prevailing perception of our pre-scientific ancestors is that they were superstitious and not able to understand how the world really works. Yet, there are endless examples of their deep understanding that life arose from the sacred union of the sun and the dirt and was embodied in all beings. The Song of Songs and sacred marriage rituals are two of a myriad of examples among an ever-growing awareness that perhaps our most ancient pre-historic ancestors understood this desire, this life force energy, much more wisely and wholistically than our western science purports.
For thousands of years many indigenous cultures would perform a sacred marriage ritual once a year, also called hieros gamos in Greek, to ensure the fertility of the land and of their community and the continuation of the cosmos. They would often involve divine actors taking on the role of god and goddess, or sometimes the local king would play a role, celebrating his sacred union with the land—the sacred feminine. The sacredness of fertility, the ability to bring forth new life, was revered above everything else.
Still today the holy books of all the Abrahamic religions carry the first epic love poem ever written, called the Song of Songs. This deeply erotic poem unabashedly celebrates the desire, the beauty, and the sensual bodies of the two lovers set amidst an idealized landscape of fertility and abundance. Their desire is unquenchable until sated; their words celebrate the complete and unabashed giving of their two bodies. And notably, this is desire that is reciprocal, where the woman is both pursued and the pursuer. Even our deeply repressive religious institutions still include in their dogma a celebration of the holiness of desire and Eros that fuel all new life on our planet.
Flowers have been evolving for over 125 million years. Their ability to know what they want, to generate their deep longing, their Eros, into the visible love we call beauty, is a model that could be life-changing for us all, if we as a species could begin to revere their ancient wisdom. What could happen, what might be created, if we saw the entirety of our lives, as the flowers do, as an erotic dance of Eros—the very life force of Creation?
As I behold the bumblebees wiggling their pollen covered bottoms in anticipation of the next flower, I feel a deep longing to share bee balm’s intimate delight each time the bee dips into their offered nectar. I want to know the exuberance, the joy of life in this moment without fear as they do. To not only revel in the awe of all creation, but to dance in it, bask in it, let it suffuse my being in each moment. I want to know what my own heart wants—deeply, madly, and without reservation.
My kind of erotic story!! Wow. You’ve captured the Eros of flower and bee so very exquisitely. Thank you for you beautiful writing and all it evokes in me 🐝💖💦🌸