A Division of Light

It is interesting to me how a small variety of factors can create such diversity on this planet. The axial tilt of the earth is one of those factors—our earth’s unique position creating our seasons and the diversity of ecosystems on this planet. Just that little 23.4 degree does that! This is the same tilt that causes the solstices and equinoxes (today being the Spring Equinox).

This goes to show the importance of how we orient ourselves in life—how the diversity of our own flora and fauna, and our own seasons take shape around wherever we position our own axis—and also that perfection may not be as interesting as a bit of quirkiness. If our earth were perfectly upright would have no seasons, the earth’s regions would not be marked by such diverse habitats as jungle, desert, grasslands. It’s possible that that slight tweak in its tilt would alter the biology of the planet enough that it would not be inhabitable.

I wonder if the earth labors under this misalignment, or if it is aligned with some other brightness we cannot see, and if in aiming for perfection we may be misdirected. Perhaps perfection is the opposite of life, and if we were to actually achieve it we would disappear.

On the equinox it is not completely true that day and night are equal. They are close, but not exactly. There is actually only one moment of “equality” wherein the earth’s axis isn’t pointing toward or away from the Sun. At that same moment, the center of the sun aligns with the equator of the earth. The relationship between sun and earth is perfectly balanced—but only for an instant! We are neither “for” nor “against” the light which makes our life possible. We stand in perfect equilibrium, and only then are we granted (brief) access to the center of the Sun.

During this time the earth is halved by light and dark, creating as much tension as ever the edges—where both sides press with equal weight against one another. This is, in fact, what creates equilibrium: equal tension. it is not lack of tension or difficulty, it is an articulate communication between what appear to be opposing forces.

I consider metaphors a reality. I think that the odd angles of our lives are created as a result of a necessary incongruence in the cosmos, and that the more we resist those oddities the less we get to taste the center of the Sun. The nectar seems to be reserved for complete alignment with our imperfect angularity; finally relenting and going along for the strange ride until it brings us back to center—maybe twice a year—when we get to taste something of perfection, which results from alignment with something more powerful than us. Something like the Sun.

And it think that now is not the time to seek a peace that is made in lack of strife and challenge, but instead to strive for a balance that might—in moments—taste like peace, which requires touching and holding the unseen with the seen, the dark with the light, the aversive with the desirable. This is neither the time to turn away from the dark, nor run toward the light, but to pause and watched in awe as they meet one another in some strange dance of sun and shadow.