What It Means To Constantly Walk The Edge – On Growth

I’ve had this realization, this morning, as I sat with my resentment and anger and wrote my angry hurtful words – to myself, in my journal. There is a wider aspect of self that I feel so supported by, so held by and loved – and yet, at times, it’s all I can do NOT to scream and shout and hurtle delicate porcelain against the walls of my house. Because there’s this, too:

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she pushes me against the edges, 
over and over again

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Until all I know is how to keep balance, swaying back and forth, at the edge of an ever-growing circle of strength, and power, and serenity.

It expands in ripples of an ever more solid knowing, a peaceful fierceful holding of space, and words, and perceptions – until I feel and see and witness myself becoming this trunk of tree, firmly rooted in the earth, and starry fruits of wisdom held in her branches. Holding shady peaceful space for those who seek refuge in her loving embrace, and gently pushing them outwards, telling them with whispers of wind in rustling leaves, it’s time to go, their own feet becoming more rooted, ready to plant themselves firmly in their own communities, in the spaces and circles and hearts where they themselves feel called. Because we all feel called. And growing, growing, growing, until we can hold space, firmly, deeply, knowingly.

Ah but how she grows, walking along the edges.

The edge of my own beliefs and limitations.

The edge of my comfort – with money, with love, with receiving, with how I see myself, with inhumanity, with horror, with suffering, with grief, with trust, with believing, with hope, with EVERYTHING.

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So here’s an example to help you explore your own understanding of what edge-walking is.

You’re doing it all the time, too. Better to call it what it is, no?

▼ it’s receiving a notice for a rent agreement ending, when you’re already feeling the tightness of finances, and worry has started to creep in. THAT’s when you’re pushed to the edge. stability crumbles, and you’re right there, at the edge. Everything put into even sharper contrast. Things becoming more black and white, more outspoken an issue.

▼ it’s understanding a relationship is truly not right for you – and somehow, somewhere, you’ve know all along. The edge just became a whole lot sharper, a whole lot harder to ignore – until here you are, at the edge of decision, again. You can still decide to pretend like you don’t know – a slight reprieve from having to make the tough choices you know are waiting for you. But you know. The edge is simply showing you where you fear to disappoint, fear to be alone, fear to be shamed or guilted, fear anger and rejection. You KNOW.

▼ it’s sitting down to write the final chapters of your book – and as you joyfully think back on all the progress you’ve made, suddenly the muse deserts you. Poof. This is your edge: comfortable writing, secretly dreading the day you’re actually going to be putting the book in front of other people to rate and judge and have all kinds of opinions about. Will you look at this? The edge of your comfort zone? The invitation to growth?

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I do not know if there is ever an end to edge-walking. I’ll be sure to report back, when I’m older, wiser, a little more grey and wrinkled and bent around the edges. But for now, now, I’ve made peace, reluctantly I’ll admit, with edges.

The delicate act of being invited to the edge. The resistance, the “oh no, not yet, not now, not until…” The inevitability of edge-walking. Surrendering. The failing to keep my balance, and knowing it, and all the opportunities for growth that presents, perfection-seeking being that I am. The holding my breath in those first moments, as I find my new balance, feeling it deep in my bones, losing it soon after, but now, now, having a reference point, knowing what it feels like, knowing what the way towards it has been, having a shortcut towards finding it again, and again, and again until it is my new normal.

And then it starts all over again.

Oh how I wish I could stay in center for just a little longer. How I wish I could maintain that balance, that delicate point of tipping not tipping. But change is just always there.

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SO HERE’S WHAT I’VE LEARNED TO DO:

This is by no means a perfect list. I cannot promise you the edges will become smoother. They might become a little less heavy-feeling, a bit more light-hearted, a quickening of your breath as you recognize the invitation your Soul has just thrown you. Let’s play.

1. Some of us will just never even go near the edges. and some of us will know to seek it, will burn in the fires, will see the edges widen, and will know to hold space for others within the flames (and yes, that’s a big part of the Priestess Path).
2. The edge is terrifying. AND: it’s an invitation. When we allow our human to freak out for a bit, as it will, we can then come in and say: okay. this is not what we expected. I’m afraid. I don’t like it. I might want to scream and shout. I think I will. / scream. shout. / Hmmmmmmmmm. Okay, so what’s the invitation in this?
3. the invitation will always be a surrendering into more faith. And, a chance to really look at your thoughts and expectations, and see where you are still holding on to doom and scarcity. You may have been playing with ideas about infinite abundance, and life being your ally – but are you ready to really LIVE it? Are you ready to put your mouth, and thinking, where your convictions lie? Are you ready to full-on say yes to life, and trust, and believe – to expect, even?
4. it’s okay to “fail”. When you’re learning a new language, you don’t always find the right words at the right time. The same goes for new beliefs. When you put them in practice – and life will give you PLENTY of opportunities to put them in practice – there will be times where you just do a face-plant. And that’s okay. It might not FEEL okay, and in your day-to-day life, it might feel icky, hard, harder, fucked up, and like you ‘failed’ – but it will be okay. Because next time, you’ll go into it a little wiser. A little stronger. Go a little farther. This ‘failing’ is especially true when it’s things like MONEY, or BODY IMAGE, or SELF-WORTH, or EASEFUL SUCCESS. These are the things where it’s like dragging your body, limb by limb, from a pool of sticky mud, or tar. These are beliefs and belief systems that are so PREVALENT, so all around, everywhere, that it’s like pulling yourself out with new sand pouring in all the time. It’s fucking okay to fail. Just keep coming back to it. You WILL break free.
5. Curse and cus as much as you need to. Just keep walking as you do. There’s this image in our culture of the ‘hardened’ warrior. Impervious to anything. Stoic. Uhm, well, I’m not like that. I’m not sure if you are. I am brave, and stubborn, and I won’t give up – but I’m sure as hell not elegant or graceful about it. I curse. I shake my fists at the universe. I pout when my higher self tells me to suck it up (which, yes, she does. Another myth busted. Higher selves DO tell truth. Including when you’re acting like a petulant 4 year old). I mumble and mutter about ‘this not being what I signed up for, and you can shove it up your you know where’. And then I heave a big sigh, and make a big shift, and feel gratitude and love flood my whole being. It’s crazy like that, yes. And I wouldn’t change a thing, really. Because it works.
6. It’s okay to say ‘please give me some space to breathe’. This is what usually happens for me when I’ve stopped resisting, and am seeing what is there for me, what edge I’m being invited to walk. Breathe. And there’s a slight shift, a softening, an opening, and we’re back, blazing with purpose and focus. All of which simply means:

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The edge is where your growth lies.

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What edges have you been bumping into lately? Please leave a comment so we can hear your thoughts and experiences in this conversation!

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