Light in the darkness

Or the equilibrium of imbalance

Reading time: 10 minutes

Last week marked the passing of the winter solstice in the northern hemisphere, with which the imbalance of sunlight in the hemispheres celebrated its biennial peak. That means eternal night in the northernmost parts of our hemisphere, but implies at the same time the irrevocable return of the light. This phenomenon can also be observed every night, because the darkest of the night means that it cannot get any darker than that, which means the light will return. This is also why the 'fish' in the yin-yang symbol ☯ have an ‘eye’ in the colour of the other; absolute black or white doesn’t exist, black always harbours white within and vice versa.

If we consider sunlight as gold on a scale, and the two scales as the northern and southern hemispheres, then during the solstices the scales are in the greatest possible imbalance, while during the equinoxes they are fully balanced. Here we see the dynamics of balance, or balancing. The noun ‘balance’ can give the impression of something static, motionless, like a status quo that can (and should) be maintained. Nothing is less true; balance is a movement that can be observed continuously all around us, which is why the verb balancing is closer to reality than the noun.

The balancing pole of an acrobat walking on a tightrope from one skyscraper to another continuously tilts from a little to the left to a little to the right and back again. If it can only be held rigidly horizontally, the acrobat never gets across without falling. In the phenomena of ebb and flow we see the balancing of the seas, in the seasons the balancing of nature and in continuous cell generation and cell death the balancing (and staying healthy) of our body.

Balance thus has a central point of equilibrium and two extreme points of imbalance, after which further imbalance is impossible. Since balance is dynamic, reaching the extreme point of imbalance means moving back towards equilibrium. As soon as the perfect equilibrium is reached again, there is another movement towards imbalance on the other side and back again, just like a teeter totter in the playground.

This natural phenomenon relates to everything that exists. Whether it is a building, human, planet, animal or head of lettuce, everything has a certain life cycle to which the scale-metaphor applies. Looking at a human life for instance, the weights on one scale consist of ‘life’ and on the other scale of ‘death’. Before our conception we are potential (potentially present but not yet in living form, or manifestation). The moment of conception we can consider as the marking point between death and life; life and death are equal in weight and the scale is in full equilibrium. Then as we grow the scales shift to life, reaching the point of extreme imbalance when we are at our strongest (vast amount of life weight, barely any dead weight). Once we’re past that point, we move towards the end of our lifespan and the scales move back towards equilibrium, which is achieved at the time of death (equal life and dead weight). Then the "death-scale" sinks even further into the realm of potential until the point of extreme imbalance is reached on that side, after which the life-weight begins to increase again; the potential moves back towards a manifestation and the scale again moves towards equilibrium (which is achieved in a new conception).

Now the curious phenomenon arises that we tend to want to push a scale in an extreme state of imbalance even further into imbalance. We have come to believe that there is an absolute ‘good’ that is to be pursued and an absolute ‘evil’ that is to be eliminated, as a result of which the scale ought to shift ceaselessly towards the good (which begs the question: the good according to whom?). In the mean time we have forgotten that all good carries something bad and vice versa, and that the scales continuously move from one side to the other despite all our frantic efforts. A Zen Buddhist tale beautifully depicts this phenomenon:

Once Upon a time there was an old farmer. Every day the farmer used his horse to work the fields and keep his farm healthy. One day the horse ran away. All the villagers came by and said, “We are so sorry to hear this. What bad luck.” But the farmer replied: “Maybe.”

The villagers were confused, but decided to ignore him. A few weeks passed, and then one afternoon, while the farmer was working outside, he looked up and saw his horse running towards him. But the horse was not alone. The horse returned with a whole herd of horses. So now the farmer had 10 horses to help cultivate his fields. All the villagers stopped by to congratulate the farmer and said “Wow! What luck!” The farmer replied: “Maybe.”

A few weeks later, the farmer's son came to visit to help his father on the farm. While trying to tame one of the horses, the son fell and broke a leg. The villagers stopped by to take pity and said, ”What a terrible thing. What bad luck.” Just like the first time, the farmer replied: “Maybe.”

A month later, the farmer's son was still recovering. He could not walk or perform manual labour to help his father on the farm. A regiment of the army came marching through the town and called on any suitable young man to join them. When the regiment reached the farmer's house and saw the young boy's broken leg, they marched past and left him where he lay. Of course, all the villagers came by and said: “Great! How lucky. You're so lucky.” The farmer replied: “Maybe.”

The farmer shows an apt example of ’going with the flow’. All the situations that are considered by the villagers as good or bad luck are by definition outside the farmers sphere of influence, meaning that he has no control over them. Suppose he gets super angry when his horse runs away. That merely triggers a stress response in his body and definitely won’t bring his horse back. Then suppose he goes into ecstasy about the return of his horse with the nine wild horses. From the excitement he again gets a stress response in his body,[1] which by definition counteracts relaxation. Then let's say he gets angry about his son's broken leg. The anger does not miraculously restore the leg and there is again the inevitable physical stress response that, if it happens often enough, only ends up in giving him an ulcer.[2]

The understanding that he can never completely predict how a particular situation will play out in the future, allows the farmer to relax in any situation in which he finds himself. As a result he can enjoy moments of ‘good fortune’ and fully accept moments of ‘bad luck’, without losing his inner balance in the process, because he knows that they both will pass at some point. That means that he can fully rely on his ability to do exactly what a situation requires in any instance, without having to think about it in advance. His control lies precisely in his ability not to actively try to control a situation but to rely on his own nature, which is the only means by which we can perceive light in the darkness and darkness in the light, or the continual balance movement everything makes.

With our cognitive ability we divide the world into opposites which are absolute: Black can’t be white and white not black; good can’t be bad and bad not good. For instance, we consider winning a lottery as a good thing and a divorce as a bad thing. Winning the lottery seems fantastic, until the whole neighbourhood (and our entire family) suddenly seems to be our best friend, and loads of asset managers shove their expensive advice down our throat. While a divorce seems to be a most terrible thing that can happen to us, but suddenly we emigrated to China to learn tai chi. You tell me which is good or bad, lucky or unlucky. The fact is that the scales continuously move back and forth; from equilibrium to imbalance on the one hand, back to equilibrium to imbalance on the other. Just like the hemispheres of the earth turn towards the sun and bounce off it again (like a teeter totter).

At the same time this image shows that there is nothing wrong with the way our cognition, our thinking, works; that is, it cannot but represent the world in opposites (e.g. North-South). We need this to be able to communicate with each other in language. However, the error lies in the belief that the universe consists only of the absolute opposites conceived by us. As long as we firmly believe that ‘black is black and that is that,’ we miss that very subtle cyclical balance movement that is continuously made by everything.

Missing that movement creates permanent high tension for many, for example those of us who firmly believe that young = good and old = bad. All means are then allowed to ‘counteract’ the natural movement of aging, and a phenomenon such as plastic surgery is therefore considered good or desirable, despite the personal dramas that often follow such interventions (aesthetic, medical or financial).

The cosmetic industry provides a good example of our illusory conviction to conquer everything we can think of and the willpower to do so, which immediately exposes our anxiety of not doing it. Or, as Dr. Ian Malcolm so beautifully sums up the efforts of the scientists in Jurassic Park: “Your scientists were so hard at work on whether or not they could, that they didn't stop to think if they should.” Dr. Hammond, however, is convinced that his security measures are sufficient to expose tourists to living dinosaurs, thus making it clear that control and predictability (or: ‘security’) are considered to be highly achievable values.[3] There is still the deep belief that these values can only be obtained through extremely fanatical and frantic human efforts. Why else are there still so many people at the mercy of 14 to 16-hour working days?

What we see on an individual level also manifests itself on a large scale. As soon as we’ve set something up we tend to want to maintain it for as long as possible, without taking into account the natural life cycle of the phenomenon in question. The larger a company, institution, party or nation, the more difficult it becomes to a) perceive that the expiration date has long since expired; b) to indicate that publically, c) to grant it a natural death, and d) to counteract the rapidly increasing cases of burnout. Our tendency towards control and preservation often extends to stiffness, rigidity and loss of our sense of humour. We are cramping up and trying to push a scale that is already at a point of extreme imbalance even further into imbalance – with all the consequences for our well-being and that of the universe accordingly.

Our trust in nature in general and our human nature in particular currently seems to be at an all-time low. No one trusts each other and every appointment must be recorded at least in triplicate. Governments are increasingly using technology to track people and algorithms hit us with 37 offers for Ibiza trips when we have once entered the word ‘Ibiza’ in a search engine. From all sides we are bombarded with advice (government), advertising (companies), and countless other forms of ‘information’ telling us what to think, do, and buy – especially the latter. But never in that cacophony do I perceive sounds which point us to the wisdom that each of us carries intrinsically.

If the dark days around Christmas can tell us anything, it’d be the wisdom of relaxing in the natural balance movement. That means as much as learning to see which situations we can influence and which we don't. If we consider life as a fast-flowing river, then it is clear we have no influence on the direction of flow of the river. Swimming against it takes a lot of effort and yields little to nothing, but if we go with the flow we have the power on the entire river backing us up. But where is our sphere of influence? In our ability to steer; we can steer left or right within the current. In practical terms, this means that if we find ourselves stuck, for example in our work, there are various possibilities to a) examine our way of working, and b) examine whether we are still in the right workplace. Instead of blindly staying on the right side of the river, we can choose to explore the left side. It is as the well-known saying goes: Grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can and the wisdom to know the difference.

As individuals we cannot change a political system, despite institutions claiming otherwise. This is equally true of socially accepted norms and values or the letter of the law, even if we would qualify ourselves in politics, morality or law. Only by discovering ourselves, by mapping our thought- and behavioural patterns and getting to know and embrace our shadow side with its demons, can we learn what it means to swim with the current and steer it. We then become beacons of light and living examples of what it means to be free, creating a snowball effect in those around us. For the one who has the courage to let go of the common good in order to know him- or herself sincerely, The Good becomes as common as grass.

I wish you all a wonderful winter solstice period!

Jolly greetings,
Erik Stout

[1] Ecstasy as the positive manifestation of a violent emotion always results in a physical stress response (fight or flight); the negative manifestations being anger, anxiety and grief.

[2] From ‘Why Zebra’s Don’t Have Ulcers’ by Robert Sapolsky

[3] That is to say, by the top 1% who lives in constant anxiety of losing their ‘privileged’ position without control, repression and predictability. That fear spreads like an oil slick through society because of the great sphere of influence of powerful individuals.