One of my greatest pet peeves is balance. Rather, the idea that I/you/me can find perfect, consistent balance. It’s sold in many packages: diets, calendars, time management systems, etc.
But…really?
To think that (let’s just use me) I can balance all of my physical needs, spiritual needs, mental needs, and the needs of my cats perfectly all the time is ridiculous.
Impossible.
Exhausting to even consider.
And maybe it is just me. Or maybe the myth of balance is the thing to look at versus whether or not I’m living up to some witch or pagan or human ideal that everything can be just so. Forever.
Nope.
(And if you have figured it out, let me know. I’m super okay with being wrong on this.)

Here Comes the Tilt of the World
Even science doesn’t tell us that balance is something that is sustained. It is a moment in time where things are in balance before tipping the other way again.
In the northern hemisphere where I reside, it is the movement into more and more light (enhanced by the time change). It feels more hopeful, more vibrant. This is great. I love it. I long for it.
But it’s fleeting.
What tilts one way must tilt the other. Return, return.
Here’s how I think of this in my magickal practice.
At the start of rituals in my tradition, there is a grounding. In that space, I come back into my body from all the places it has been before that moment. When I am grounded, I can sink into the earth and strength up to connect with the stars to know myself in the present moment.
Fully resourced and aligned.
What tilts one way must tilt the other. Return, return.
Maybe it’s just me and my current inconsistent magickal practice (outside of Wordle), but once I ground, I don’t stay there. Even if I’m a priestess in the ritual, I have to continuously check in with my state of presence.
And ground again. And again.
While I don’t experience slipping away from grounding as a mistake or flaw, I recognize it as a reminder that my human experience is dynamic. It requires and asks of me to continuously check-in to see how things are working.
And what might be grounded for me yesterday…may not be what is grounded for me today.
Or this particular minute.
The Dynamic Tension of Life and Living
No matter how you celebrate (or don’t) the equinoxes, I invite you in this moment to remember to ground into this moment. The only one we can really count on. The only one we can be sure of.
And the only one we have even the tiniest bit of control over.
Let’s make it simple.
Place a hand on your heart or belly. Notice what’s there. Your eyes can be open or closed.
Don’t change anything. Just notice where you are.
And then consider where you want to be.
Maybe that requires you to visualize a cord that stretches down into the earth and back up to the sky.
Maybe this requires you to take a deep breath and let it out loudly.
Maybe this requires you to shift your shoulders and stretch.
Maybe this requires you to scream to bring yourself into your body fully.
Exactly. (For this moment, anyway.)
What I’m saying is that balance may not be perfect (or possible), but you can tilt yourself back into this moment. Into the place of knowing and being.
Into the place of blessing and brightness. No matter where the light goes next.
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Added note: The image I have of the equinox is people trying to balance an egg on its end. Hence, this conversation about balance.
