Standing Between Sun and Moon

Talk about being in the right place at the right time.

The last weekend of September was tough. I was moving out of a house I loved and by the time all the sorting, purging, and packing were done, I felt empty and fragile. Maybe you’ve had moments like that—times when life feels stripped down to its essentials, and you’re not quite sure what will rise in its place.

It was a splendid late-summer afternoon, so—despite my exhaustion—I went for a walk along the train tracks in a nearby village.

All month, I’d been teaching an online series called Dancing the Body of Light, guiding my community through an exploration of the subtle body—the energetic anatomy described in the hatha yoga tradition.

That week's class was called Balancing Sun and Moon. I spoke about the mystical definition of Hatha Yoga as the union of sun (ha) and moon (tha), and the three primary energy channels: sushumna, ida, and pingala.

Ida carries lunar, cooling energy. Pingala carries solar, activating energy. And the sushumna runs up the center, housed within the spine. The tradition says that when ida and pingala are harmonized, prana stabilizes in the sushumna, stilling the mind and revealing the state of yoga from within.

I’d been carrying that image with me- the sun and moon in perfect equilibrium - when I went for that walk. I didn’t realize then that the teaching I’d been sharing with others was about to reflect itself back to me in the most literal way.

As I headed south along the train tracks in the late afternoon sun, I looked up and there it was.

The setting sun blazed to my right, its golden light spilling across the western sky. To my left, a pale crescent moon rose in the soft blue evening. Beneath my feet, the train tracks ran straight as an arrow between them, disappearing into the distance.

I stood there, mesmerized. Ida, Pingala, and Sushumna had come to life in the outer world. I was standing in the very center of it all.

The synchronicity stunned me. It felt like the universe saying: I am here for you. You belong to me and I will never forsake you. I couldn’t have received the message more clearly.

Standing between sun and moon, something inside me steadied. The outer alignment mirrored exactly what I needed to hear within—a reminder that even in times of uncertainty and upheaval, there is a deeper current holding us, a source place that unfailing anchors us when we pause long enough to feel it.

In that moment of aloneness, I felt profoundly supported - a conviction that everything was unfolding as it needed to, and complete trust in my path even in the midst of this difficult transition.

I stayed there until the sun dipped lower and the moon grew brighter, reluctant to leave. Yoga had revealed itself in the most unexpected way—not in a studio or on my mat, but on abandoned train tracks at dusk.

What I learned that day is that when we're paying attention, the universe speaks to us in exactly the language we need to hear, reminding us that we belong to something vast and benevolent—something that holds us more tenderly than we know.

May your yoga practice cultivate the presence and openness needed to recognize those moments when the universe arranges itself to meet you, offering guidance grace, and support – both on the mat and in your life.