i ask for balance

“go on over the edge/ go on over the edge old men”1

the scales are tipping. it’s the day after the fall equinox.2 the edge of the day comes sooner, longer nights, more darkness. normally i dread this transition. the absence of sunlight feels crushing. why does night start to start at 2 pm?

this year, i feel more open to it, i’m reminded that all things start in the dark. people, plants, and ideas are seeded there, begin to grow. we start beneath the surface, in the womb, down in the soil. we start when it’s not yet time to push.

i’m reminded, too, that the conflation of darkness & blackness with evil, fear, bad shit, the unwanted, failure, hatred and suffering comes from white supremacy in the first place.3 i’m reminded of how clear the stars and sounds are when there’s less light.

maybe the days and nights are not equal length all the time because balance isn’t that easy. you can’t order it on a plate. balance asks us to shift, to participate. we lose it and then we find it again. we feel it somewhere in the gut, before falling, after almost falling, after having fallen headlong. we get it back with effort and surrender. and now: long night, long rest, long exhale. didn’t i probably need that? didn’t i probably need an inward season or two?

and then sometimes i ask for balance and i get it, even if only for a day. and i ask for a willingness to be in the dark, to be with the dark, and The Axial Tilt Of The Earth says okay you got it, says here it comes. it will be uncomfortable and it already is. we’re growing now. we’re over the edge and into the dark.