«Day and night are exactly balanced, poised on the knife -edge of time. From here, the dark begins its slow reign
– Silje Elsrud Yttervik
In a way, the Autumn Equinox is a doorway; a hinge in the year, where light and darkness stands facing one another, equal for a breath before the balance tips.
In the Nordic lands, this is not just a date on the calendar, but a reminder of the deep truth we live within: The sun is slowly leaving us, and for many months ahead, darkness will be our constant companion.
The Old ways
For our ancestors, the autumn equinox first and foremost marked the second harvest. Up until now grain and wildberries had already been stored, followed by certain fruits at the edge og summer – seeping intoo fall. Thus at last, remaining fruit and root vegetables were left, waiting to be plucked and harvested, before the frost of winter truly sets in.
In the Norse and other Northern European traditions, the equinox was considered a sacred threshold. Fires were lit to honour the suns retreat, mead and bread were offered to the pagan gods, and feasts were held to remind people that even as darkness lengthened – community and abundance could endure.
Furthermore, as a threshold, the autumn equinox was considered a liminal moment – when the veil between the night and day thins. As such, it was believed that liminal spirits walked more easily in these in-between spaces. The equinox was not just about harvesting, but about recognizing the part fragile/ part strange beauty of being ‘in between worlds’.
The new ways
Today, the equinox is less formal but still lingers in our culture. In parts of Scandinavia, people mark it with candlelight dinners, forest walks – or quiet gatherings. Some still hold harvest festivals, others ‘celebrate’ by simply noticing the beauty of shifting leaves, or the cold of autumn air fully setting in, as night falls earlier with each passing day.
For many (myself included), this is the beginning of ‘hygge-season’; a season of cozy blankets, hot drinks, lighting candles in the windowsill and feel-good TV-shows.
Yet beneath the cozy surface, ancient rhytms still remains; the recognition that light is slipping away, and that we must be preopared for the darkness.
«Cattle die, kinsmen die, all men are mortal.
But I know one thing that never dies:
The glory of the great dead».
– Hávamál (The Poetic Edda)
As the sun slips away, we remember what endures. Light fades, but memory and meaning remain!
The Psychology of darkness
Here in the north, this darkness is no metaphor. From late september until (usually) march, daylight is highly rationed, often scarce. I Personally live in the south-east of Norway, thus will see more sunlight than family members up-north, but even here the growing amount of darkness brings with it much tiredness, melancholy – and for some, even depression.
During this time, our minds, like our ancestors, need (some form of) ritual to survive this long goodbye to light.
Some gentle practices for the coming month is:
- Light with intention: Candles or lamps are not trivial -they are acts of defiance. Like small suns we create for ourselves
- Marking the days: Routine is very important at this time of the year, as it can keep our minds from unravelling. Let rhytm (sleep, meals, and small joys) be your anchor when daylight falters.
- Seek the outside: Even just a few minutes of daylight can help you.
- Eat well, and seek enough vitamin D, as you won’t get enough from the sun.
- Welcome the dark: Instead of being afraid of it, let the darkness become a true companion. Darkness slows us, asks us to listen inwardly, to rest and dream more deeply.
«To light a candle is to cast a shadow».
– Ursula K. Le Guin
Living between worlds
For me, as a disabled person, this season resonates with an odd intimacy. Because, my life often feels liks an equinox stretched across time: a balance between exhaustion and energy, visibility and invisibility, illness and possibility.
Each fall, as the equinox approaches, there is something strangely familiar in that existance. Like (once again) living between worlds. This is not easy, but it is a powerful way of not giving up. Thus, the equionox reminds me that the thresholds we now encounter are not empty – they are alive and full of potential.
The long goodbye to light
And so, we step into the long goodbye. The light will not return (fully) until the spring -equinox , half a year from now. But in the meantime,we do not live in absence. We live in transformation: leaves blazing gold before they fall, nights deepening into velvet, dreams sharpening in the scilence of long evenings.
The equinox whispers: you are beween two worlds. Walk carefully, Light your candles. Gather people close. The dark will come – but so will a sky full of stars.
– Silje
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