The 'Harmonious' Gremlin
On Celestial Poise & Finding Harmony Over Balance
Twice a year, the Earth experiences a moment of celestial poise—the equinox—when day and night share equal time. A fleeting balance. A pause. But I wonder—if balance were the goal, wouldn't we be stuck in stillness?
I’m resting right now. Recovering from a cold, but even in rest, there is a bare minimum. Move. Write. Share. The things that keep the wheels turning, the light on, the fire warm. Not everything can pause at once. The world doesn’t work like that.
I was speaking to a friend recently, and she said something that stayed with me:
“The light is earned from knowing the darkness.”
She said it with such certainty, fire in her eyes, like someone who had been through something and come out untouchable. That kind of knowing—that kind of confidence—no one can take from you. And maybe that’s the real lesson of balance.
Not a daily equilibrium. Not splitting everything neatly in halves. But a middle path emerges only when you step back far enough to see the whole arc of a life. Some seasons are about the making, the fire, the fullness. Others are about the slowing, the stepping back, the exhale. And in the end, the weight of both evens out—not because we measure them carefully, but because we lived fully in each when it was time.
I’ve heard people say we should strive for balance. But I think they mean harmony. Balance is an impossible symmetry, an equation that rarely holds. Harmony is different. It’s an orchestra where each instrument has its moment—the percussion takes the lead, then fades, making space for the strings. In life, too, there are seasons when one part of us swells forward while another recedes. Family, work, love, solitude, ambition, rest. Each has its time in the spotlight, and then the music shifts.
Ancient civilizations understood this. The Mayans built temples to cast a shadow-serpent on the equinox, honouring the threshold between light and dark. The Japanese observe Shunbun no Hi, a day to reflect on what has been. The Persians celebrate Nowruz, stepping into renewal. They weren’t obsessed with perfect balance—they celebrated transition, understanding that both states are needed.
So maybe the lesson of the equinox isn’t about chasing balance, but about walking the full spectrum of experience, knowing that darkness isn’t a thing to fear, but a thing to know. Because once you know it, once you’ve walked through it—you own the light in a way no one can take from you.
If you’re in a season of intensity, give it your all. If you’re in a season of rest, honour that without resistance. And if you’re in between, watching the light and dark stretch their arms toward each other this week, maybe you, too, can find some harmony in the in-between.
From The Factory >
Spring in my step
Nothing fancy or showy to show here just some bare minimum efforts I made that keep the wheel turning. I picked up some flowers from a beautiful florist, and they’ve been filling my space with joy, giving me life and, quite literally, something to draw from
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Prompts >
PRACTICE :
Instead of forcing balance, tune into your natural rhythm—whether for a day, an hour, or just 30 minutes. Notice when you feel most alive, most introspective, most still. Where does your energy rise and fall? Rather than controlling it, try honouring it. If you’re drawn to movement, move. If you need rest, allow it. If an idea sparks, follow it. Let the moments take their turn
ASK SOMEONE:
What’s a season in your life where you felt completely out of balance? How did you find your way through?
REFLECT:
Where in your life are you resisting the natural ebb and flow? Are you trying to force equilibrium instead of trusting the shifts?
Musings >
"You can’t have the light without the dark. You can’t appreciate the sweet without the bitter. Life is yin and yang. It’s about falling down and getting back up." - Serena Williams
"Art is the unceasing effort to compete with the beauty of flowers—and never succeeding." - Marc Chagall
"When you stop chasing the wrong things, you give the right things a chance to catch you." - Lolly Daskal
"There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in." - Leonard Cohen *
In love, reverence, trust and a lot of belly laughs
Karimah
*P.S. Cohen didn’t start his music career until his 30s.
Before becoming a musician, Cohen was a published poet and novelist. He only picked up music seriously in his mid-30s because he thought he wouldn’t make enough money as a writer. Cohen once said, "Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash."
“The light is earned from knowing the darkness.”