Ajaw, the lord sun, is twentieth and last of the twenty, following Kawak the storm: after the rain, the light of noon and the completion of a round. Ajaw is 'lord' — the title of Maya rulers is this word — and the name of the sun god K'inich Ajaw, and the father of the Hero Twins. Its glyph is a face, the most human of all the day signs. So Ajaw is about completion and illumination: after walking the other nineteen, standing at noon and lighting the whole day.
So Ajaw's mechanism is centre and fullness: where you are grows quiet, ordered, lit. Its power is light — you let others see; its difficulty is weight — your presence carries, and that isn't privilege but responsibility, and it makes rest hard.
Where you'll recognise it: people naturally make you the centre, you hold yourself to a high standard of 'complete', you feel honour and the right thing keenly, being watched steadies rather than shakes you, and few people ask whether you're tired. Running well, you're the one who lights others best: giving a group a centre, a scale, light to stand in. Stuck, you scorch or you empty — so bright you push people away, or all the light given out and nothing left inside. In the sequence Ajaw is followed by Imix again, the crocodile: after completion, everything starts over from the lowest ground. Your next step isn't shining brighter. It's ending this round well, and allowing yourself to return to where nothing is lit yet.