No. 01 The Space Between
Photo by Martin Engel on Upsplash
There are two times a year when the Earth seems to hold still. September 22 will be one of those days.
It’s scientific. More precisely, it is the celestial mechanics of the equinoxes. The Earth slowly leans towards and away from the sun on its axis, but twice a year, it leans neither further towards nor further away from the sun. Day and night are split evenly everywhere.
It’s also poetic. Twice a year, the momentum of natural cycles pauses in transition. A beat where the inhale has finished and the exhale hasn’t yet begun. For one day, light and dark rest in something close to exact balance. Equal measure.
That precision, that balance, doesn’t last, and frankly, you wouldn’t want it to. A rigid, static state has no flow. That isn’t a standard to hold yourself to. It’s simply a beautiful pause before the coming season unfurls forward.
You may not feel drawn to days like this. Equinoxes can be easily overlooked in the hustle and bustle of the modern world. It may feel easier to connect to the solstices, which offer certainty (the longest light, the longest dark) and an extreme you can name and feel. Equinoxes, by contrast, are more gentle in their liminality. They hold the tension between the current moment and the upcoming tenderly. And they offer a beautiful, not-yet-knowingness to one’s life and carve out space for reflection, for potential, for hope.
The equinoxes invite in rest and reflection. A moment to ponder. You can use this day to cherish the alfresco dinners you lingered over with loved ones. Or bring forth remembered days of roller rinks and lemonade stands from bygone summers. Or you can look ahead to the yellowing leaves and to the festive and themed gatherings, tuning in to what endures.
Or you can simply let this day be a pause in your life. Not because balance is the goal, but because the harmony you seek is found in the ebb and flow, in the flexibility, in the inclusive frequency of both-and; not in the limited nature of exactness. Take a deep inhale. Feel it in your body. Listen for your own unique frequency. Today isn’t about absolutes or matching the equinox’s precision. It’s about letting a pause in the season’s cycle be permission for a pause in yours.
In the space between. Light and dark holding equally still, for one more breath, before the year continues its turning. We will enter the seasons of bounty and of preparation. The season that collects and gathers us together, before wintering sets in. But in this moment, there are no demands of us. In this moment, nothing looms. In this moment, we can breathe. Today, embrace the space in between. Give yourself the gift of the pause.