Equinox Of Life

Between the Dark and Light

There’s something oddly comforting about darkness. Before you raise your eyebrows, hear me out. Darkness is fundamental. It’s been there since the beginning of time, hanging around like that distant relative who always overstays their welcome at family gatherings. The universe began in darkness, after all. It’s the original state of affairs, the cosmic default setting. And try as we might to escape it, darkness will always be there, lurking in the background like the uninvited guest at a wedding reception, waiting for the lights to go out.

Now, before we all get gloomy and start humming Leonard Cohen’s “You Want It Darker,” let’s consider making peace with our darkness. After all, why fight it? Darkness isn’t going anywhere. It’s like that one coworker who never takes a sick day or a vacation—dependable in its omnipresence. So, let’s learn to live with it, acknowledge it, and maybe even learn to like it a little. And while we’re at it, let’s acknowledge the resources we use to tide ourselves over in the dark times: friends, therapy, that surprisingly good bottle of wine from the discount rack.

But let’s talk about the kind of darkness that’s a bit trickier—the darkness inside us. Ah yes, the kind that creeps up on you when you least expect it. The kind that makes you question everything, like when you accidentally open your front camera and come face to face with a goblin masquerading as you. The kind of darkness that can sometimes lead to thoughts that are as unwelcome as a telemarketer’s call during dinner.

Yes, I’m talking about pain and suicide—topics that often hide in the shadowy recesses of our minds. But why shy away from them? Pain is a part of the human experience, as inevitable as taxes or the final season of a TV show that should have ended three seasons ago. It’s a universal currency, one we all trade in, knowingly or unknowingly. And suicide—well, it’s the tragic toll that darkness can sometimes exact, the price paid when the weight of that darkness becomes too heavy to bear. But what if we could shift the conversation a bit? What if we could talk about these things without the usual hushed tones and awkward glances?

Enter the equinox. The equinox is a time of balance—when day and night are of equal length, when light and darkness do a little tango before parting ways. It’s a reminder from the cosmos that balance is possible, even if it’s fleeting. And maybe, just maybe, it’s a reminder that we can find balance within ourselves, too. That we can make peace with our darkness without letting it consume us.

Think about it. What if we approached our inner darkness the way we approach the equinox? Instead of running from it, what if we acknowledged it? What if we said, “Hey, darkness, I see you there. Let’s sit down for a cup of tea and figure this out. Maybe I can learn something from you.” After all, darkness can be a great teacher. It can teach us resilience. It can teach us empathy. It can even teach us how to laugh at ourselves, which, let’s face it, is a skill most of us could use more of.

The truth is, we all have our own personal equinoxes, those moments when we’re caught between light and darkness, between hope and despair, between reaching for the remote or just accepting that the cat has sat on it and there’s no getting it back now. It’s in those moments that we have a choice. We can let the darkness take over, or we can seek out the light—even if it’s just a flicker.

And here’s where the observatory humor kicks in. Picture this: your darkness is like a brooding gothic poet, always draped in black, sighing dramatically in the corner. But your light? Your light is that cheerful yoga instructor who just won’t quit with the sun salutations. Now, instead of these two squabbling, what if we let them co-host the party? Let them find some common ground—maybe they both secretly love the same obscure 90s sitcom. The equinox is the perfect time for this cosmic mediation, a celestial negotiation where both light and dark have their say.

So, next time the darkness feels too heavy, remember the equinox. Remember that balance is possible, that light and darkness can coexist. And remember that it’s okay to ask for help—to reach out to a friend, a therapist, or even a random stranger who looks like they’ve got it together (spoiler: they probably don’t). Because at the end of the day, we’re all just trying to navigate our own personal equinoxes, our own balancing acts between darkness and light. And if we can do that with a little humor and a lot of grace, well, maybe that’s the best kind of peace we can make.