Spring Equinox - Disorientation

Spring Equinox is here. And while I am not ready for spring (I feel like I write that every year!), I am grateful for the invitation to orient to the natural world and for the reminder that balance is really a cultural construct in our rigid way of how we understand it.

The equinox is a moment when daytime and night time are in perfect balance. For one day (out of 365) equality between these two states happens, and then the rest of the year we are moving into the extremes. I find comfort and compassion for my humanity when I consider that even nature does not have the perfect static balance we humans strive for. 

Beyond balance, other concepts I have been contemplating recently is disorientation and orientation. Often when we feel disoriented in life we have this reactionary sense we are doing something wrong. We are a focused, path forward obsessed culture, so when we feel and experience disorientation we try really hard to get out of it. We struggle against it, try to push through it, search for clarity, our path, and our purpose, as if only one way, one purpose, one path exists for each of us.

This makes sense…disorientation can feel really uncomfortable and we have been trained to move as quickly out of the discomfort as possible. 

There are some times when we need to move to comfort and orientation and then there are other times when the medicine is in the disorientation. 

Disorientation isn’t inherently uncomfortable. With a better understanding of disorientation as part of the human experience, we can give ourselves more space and compassion. And with more space and compassion, we can move into curiosity (I will say it as many times as I need to - curiosity is a physiological dependent state). But if we are fighting against the human experience of disorientation - there is not much room for self-compassion - the fighting squeezes out all the space where we might show kindness to ourselves. 

So why speak about disorientation now with the spring equinox upon us? It is a point in the natural year that invites us to continually orient… we turn our face upwards to the warmth and the light of the returning sun or we bend low to whisper words of endearment to the flower just budding. And since we are organically orienting in this season of growth, it is the perfect moment to lean into the opposite to practice the movement between two very human states.

The natural world calls us into turning towards the new life around us (orienting) and with that brief moment of ordinariness we can have a reprieve from the disorientation. And this reprieve makes turning back towards (or falling back in) to disorientation a bit more comfortable. This touching into one state and then the other is the innate wisdom of our systems before life and society got us into worshipping at the altar of unattainable consistent regulation. 

In my spiritual training I was taught that disorientation is just as important to the human journey as orientation. Disorientation if entered into with the curiosity of what gifts lie here provides the space and opportunity to unlearn so that we may relearn. Disorientation offers us the space to review and examine the road we have traversed and to pick up pieces or correct any missteps we have made. In the state of disorientation, we can let go, unwind what binds and constricts us, we can shake off what is no longer required in our lives. Disorientation can invite us to sit, rest, and turn inward while we gather energy to move into orienting to what is on the horizon. 

With springs arrival, I hear the invitation to take the time to move between orientation and disorientation in these micro conscious ways. And if you wonder if micro steps can do anything for lasting change in our lives. I can assure you that micro steps lay a sturdy foundation (neuroplasticity is built on micro steps) to bloom anew, in your own time, in your own way, in your own dance of disorientation and orientation. 

My hope for this spring is that we take the time to orient to what brings us hope and beauty and that our disorientation is just as affirming and easeful as when we know the way. 

Blessings,

Valerie 
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