Equinox

It couldn't have come at a better time

Anyone who knows me knows I’m mostly a solstice kinda gal: I cherish the summer and the winter varieties equally, each in its own way.

But today? Today I’m all about the equinox.

Today is, of course, the spring, or vernal, equinox, one of two days each year in which our day and our night are equal in length.

Equinox means, in Latin, “equal night.” For the next three months, those nights will grow gradually shorter and the days longer until the sweet summer solstice sends us tiptoeing toward autumn’s equinox.

Today, as most days, I walked the beach. If springtime indeed arrived today, that memo didn’t make its way to the shore, where the breeze blustered, the sun shied behind grey clouds, and the steely waves churned.

As I walked, I thought about how the equinox embodies a truth we yoga teachers harp on all the time: the only moment that exists is the present moment. We no longer breathe in the past; our hearts have yet to beat in the future. Right here, right now is all that matters, all we have or can ever have or ever wish to have.

My mind drifted from that thought, as minds will do, to considerations of words related to “equinox.”

Equipoise.

Equilibrium.

Equanimity.

I use these words often, especially when teaching yoga, whether to describe a pose or suggest a way of being in the world.

I’m not sure I have ever before thought about those three words at once. Certainly never on the equinox. But today I received those words, together, as the message they clearly were meant to be.

Equi.

Balance.

Balance of night and day. Balance of past and future.

Balance of fear and wonder, of scarcity and abundance, of worry and gratitude.

Balance of loss—and love.

With balance comes clarity. With balance comes peace.

With balance, I have to believe, comes joy.

xxx

This particular equinox comes at what I’ve chosen to regard as a magical point in my life. Having marked a milestone (haha! first time I typed that it came out “millstone”!) birthday not long ago, I’ve been reflecting on my past, my future, and my very identity.

It occurs to me that so much of what has defined me—and in many cases weighed me down, held me back, and done me harm—is firmly in my past. My challenging relationship with my mother, my unstable financial situation, and certain health concerns that seem to have been happily resolved are all in my rear-view mirror.

After a lifetime of romantic partnerships ranging from the simply unsuitable to the fraught and damaging, I’ve now taken a solid year off from any such entanglements. I’ve learned so much about who I am and what I want, and I’ve found myself able to view those former partnerships, and partners, with a degree of gratitude and compassion I’d never have thought possible.

For the first time in my adult life, I am fully unencumbered, free to do whatever I like with whatever remains of my time here on Earth.

That’s a wonderful place to be, and I’m grateful to be here. But it also makes for an unsettling transition: if I’m no longer defined by my past, then who, and what, am I, and how will I define myself moving forward?

xxx

I take a lot of photos, all the time, including when I’m on the beach. I only photograph what is presented to me, as it’s presented: I never nudge a shell, stone, or stem of seaweed to craft a stronger composition.

Which makes it all the more astonishing that I see the things that I see, when I see them.

Today, as I was just finishing my walk, still mulling these thoughts about my life and where it might lead me next, I came across the configuration of sea flora you see in the photo at the top of this post. The footprints are my own; no other human had walked before me and arranged these damp twigs.

I’ve long since stopped wondering whether the universe is trying to tell me something. The universe always has something to say. The thing is to pay attention—and keep moving forward.

xxx

Happy Spring! May you find balance—and may balance find you.