Life is dynamic and ever-changing.
Our humanness, in all its flux and fury, is part of the holy mess we get to reckon with.
And stillness, at the neutral midpoint, is the ever-present refuge from the storm.
I like seeing the Equinox as the time of year that celebrates the Still Point, which for me is the central inquiry and teaching of Equanimity.
Equanimity is the possibility of stillness that exists in the middle of all polarities; a resting place, here, at the center.
Equanimity illuminates the way we use our emotional pendulum swings (from high to low, inflated to deflated, inspired to disappointed, hopeful to hopeless, connected to abandoned, etc..) to secure a personal narrative that fuels identification with suffering or drama.
Equanimity soberly asks us to tell the truth about how we get off on these swings, and how we’ve come to believe they are inseparable from the thrill of human aliveness.
We get to look at how it is that we feed these swings, and at what cost, and whether we are honestly willing to choose something different…
Equanimity is an advanced teaching, because it asks us to lay down our precious narrative, (yes—even our super juicy, poignant, eloquent, spiritual narrative 😉 ) in service of embracing emptiness, nothing, nobody.
We have to let go of our inflated/deflated stance, or our inflated/deflated projection, or our position, or our story, or our wound, or our glory, long enough to experience what’s free of it; long enough to feel what’s awake and untouched, at the center: neutral, still and free.
Equanimity asks us to lay down all our ideas about me and you and them and it, long enough to enter the still-point, where true peace is found.
Every single moment, this possibility awaits. It’s pretty cool, really: our own continuous, personal Equinox.