Twilight in the Himalayas reminds us that life is at its most vivid, most vibrant along the shared edges. When two things meet, they do so in space and in time, and a very powerful thread runs along their common edge. And with this power comes the potential for danger. Because that vividness and vibrancy come, paradoxically, from the very absence of distinction that characterizes any juncture. Two rivers meet, and how do we know for sure, along that fluid seam, which drops belong to which river? The threshold of the door occupies a space that is neither inside nor outside. During the precious moments of twilight, it is neither day nor night. Whenever and wherever any two things meet, there is a mysterious third phenomenon in the very meeting itself. The two things may be similar, or they may be precisely opposite. But the peculiar, indistinct precision along that common edge will always dance circles around duality. And therein lies the danger, for our minds can’t think in the twilit realm between categories. Indeed, in the depths of meditation, yogis attempt to place the mind along the razor-fine edge between thoughts themselves. Which may be why they have exhorted us to meditate during twilight, to bathe and then sit at the place where rivers meet, because these times and these places attune our minds to that divine edge that runs between each thought and along every distinction.
“Equinox, solstice, sunrise, sunset, noon and midnight—these are sacred and powerful junctures (sandhya) when the moon and sun, corresponding to ida and pingala, the lunar and solar currents in the body, are in balance. The yogi is a connoisseur of these pregnant moments, and by focusing his or her awareness at the center of this radiant stillness, can witness the dance of the One Beyond Thought.”
-Swami Bhajanananda Saraswati @bhajanananda.swami, from “Return to the Source” p.112.