What the spring equinox teaches me …

"... time to nurture 
the habit of gentleness 
plant seeds of kindness 
starting with myself
allow space 
for creativity to grow ..."

Last weekend, we in the northern hemisphere, celebrated the spring equinox, which marks a moment of balance between the light and dark, the day and night.  From now until the end of June, the days will grow longer, whilst the nights grows shorter.  It’s a helpful reminder, I think, that everything is connected.  Springtime is the perfect opportunity to consider the different aspects of our lives and if they are held in balance. Should we be doing more of one thing and less of another?  Only we can know.  

I spent most of my working life searching for a better work/life balance and never really managed it.  In fact, I was rubbish at it.  I invariably put work first and myself last.  It made me ill, not once but twice. I needed time out, and of course, I never gave myself permission to recuperate fully before, once again, diving back in.  Of course, the organisation I worked for was more than happy to turn a blind eye whilst I worked myself to death, but on reflection, I know it was my own fault.  I was (and remain to a lesser degree) a people pleaser.  I was a woman in what still felt like a man’s world.  I was bright but never brilliant, thus always felt I had to work doubly hard to keep up.  It was exhausting.  

When you suffer from vertigo, which affects physical balance, you will feel unsteady of your feet.  There’s a constant need to check yourself.  If you forget, you’re likely to stumble and fall.  A lack of mental balance feels the same.  I often felt anxious; I had to check myself to prevent panic setting in.  

It was only when I stopped work that I truly appreciated just how important balance is.  I guess I always knew this, deep down, but simply wasn’t ready to accept it.  I knew that to achieve balance in my life, something had to give, and it was never going to be my job.  I’m not proud of this, but it’s the truth.  

When I look back now, I can see that I did relent to some degree. I stepped back when I realised that it was too much, albeit I took almost my entire career to reach that point.  It came at a price but it was a price worth paying; I did recover.  Recovery shouldn’t be that drastic or difficult but then, if you’ve been reading the blog, you’ll know that I usually do things the hard way.   Check out my earlier post, if you haven’t seen it: https://fiwynne.com/2026/02/11/why-i-make-things-harder-than-they-have-to-be/

Spring and winter equinox, summer and winter solstice, all offer assurance that life is cyclical.  If you miss an opportunity to make a change, don’t worry, it’ll come round again.  I wrote this poem, not in springtime, but in autumn.  When I think about it now, it makes perfect sense.  Autumn’s the time you start to prepare for the following spring. You plant bulbs, giving them time to slowly settle over the winter months.  Mentally, I was thinking ahead to retirement and future plans.  I fully embraced the opportunity to plant new ideas, gathering momentum as my year has progressed.  I sought to re-balance priorities and make space for new growth.  It worked!  It’s amazing what flows into your life when you make space for it to happen. 

Our internal cycles don’t necessarily follow those of our planet, but there’s no better time than now to think about our life balance and consider if it’s time to plant new internal seeds, and make space for them to grow.  What are you waiting for?