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Edges ...

Many times life has presented me with an edge: between what I am and what I will become, between what I know and what I don’t yet know, between what is familiar and what I must still give birth to.



Cliffs of the Great Australian Bight

Many times life has presented me with an edge: between what I am and what I will become, between what I know and what I don’t yet know, between what is familiar and what I must still give birth to.


That edge is never comfortable. I have never found myself willingly balancing on that edge, patting myself smugly on the back at how clever I am.


No, when I’m on that edge I’m in turmoil. I’m dazed. Shocked. Struggling. Pissed off. I feel pushed beyond my limits. There is nowhere else to go. Nothing else to do. Everything feels unsolvable and unfixable. I’m at a dead end. I’ve run out of options. I am terrified and I'm certain I will die.


In front of me looms only the emptiness of my worst fears. An ominous oblivion. I can distinguish no bottom and no horizon, no promise of foothold or embrace. There is only indeterminacy and endlessness. Dare I risk myself to this unknowing or should I clamber and claw my way back onto unstable ground, a ground that is, at this very moment, giving way beneath my feet. Crumbling. Caving in. A ground that no longer sustains me. A ground that betrays the trust I had placed in it.


What should I do? I have nowhere to go.


Am I prepared to risk everything? To fail? To fall? To drop down? Dare I give up all that I believe and all that I know? Dare I let go of the old and stale pathways, the monotonous and worn-out words? Dare I plunge into this hole before me?


But then ... then ... when I feel least ready, least prepared … just as my resolve is wavering and I am considering a line of retreat ...


I find myself pushed …


It is life that pushes me, or pain that pushes me, or a friend, or a lover. Or the crumbling ground beneath my feet finally gives way, divesting me of any choices I felt I might have had. There is nothing I can do now. I am in freefall. Nothing. Nothing.


And then. Then. As I hand myself over. As I let go. As I surrender. As I release myself. I realize I have wings that I did not know I had. I am flying. I am at home in a world that I could never have imagined, never have problem-solved my way to, never have constructed or planned.


Here now, I am soaring! I am loving. I am moving in new ways and with new understandings. Here, now, I see only possibility. New paths. Undreamt-of potential. Blessed Life!


Why did I fear? Why did panic freeze my limbs? Why did I not trust that I would be held? Why, why, why did I not let go willingly?


This is the lesson of edges and of falling and of flying …


It is letting go that is the hardest …


(Excerpted from my book Suffering, Spirituality and the Inner Journey Home).

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The author of this site will not be liable for any loss or damage of any nature occasioned to or suffered by any person acting or refraining from acting as a result of reliance on the material contained on this web site. This site was written to compassionately inform its readers. While the reflections and suggestions in this site may work well for some people, they may not be appropriate for you. Contact your physician or mental health professional first. Neither the author of this site nor any associate shall be liable or responsible to any person or entity for any loss, damage, injury, or ailment caused, or alleged to be caused, directly or indirectly, by the information or lack of information contained in this site.