Balance Is Not Stability: What the Equinox Reminds Me

On March 20, 2026, at 14:45:53 UTC, the spring equinox takes place.

Not poetry. Celestial mechanics.

At that precise instant, day and night are almost equal in length.

Perfect balance.

For seconds.

Balance Is Not Permanent

We tend to imagine balance as something stable, sustained.

But the equinox reminds us of something uncomfortable: balance is transition.

It’s a crossing point.

From that moment on, daylight gains ground.

No pause. No plateau.

Only movement.

The Shortening of Transitions

I’ve lived through more than four decades of seasons.

And I feel — not scientifically, but experientially — that spring and autumn are shrinking.

Transitions narrow.

• Cold feels colder.
• Heat feels hotter.
• The mild barely lasts.

The terrace garden notices.

My skin notices (so does my eczema).

Nature seems more accelerated, more extreme.

Not always sure when to bloom.

And So Do We

Perhaps we are not sure when to moderate either.

We polarize.

Cold or heat. Black or white. With me or against me.

Temperate zones — nuance and conversation — seem to shrink.

I’m not sure if it’s meteorology or culture. Maybe both.

Learning from the Sky

The equinox is not stability.

It’s adjustment.

It’s accepting that movement is the rule.

That nothing stays the same all year.

That there are phases.

And that real balance is not standing still, but knowing which season you’re in.

This has been on my mind for a while: chasing balance, even if it’s impossible, is what keeps us in motion.