It’s like the side of your foot doesn’t have anywhere to rest on.
You can’t stand still when you are on there.
There is no space to.
It is as if you can lose it all.
It is the all or nothing arena.
You feel like throwing up just before you step on it.
Sleep is unachievable.
And that foot never gets to have a whole area under it.
I am talking about what it feels like to step on the edge.
The edge is this narrow line that won’t let you forget how it can give it all to you and take it all from you.
But the longer you stay there, the more the edge gives to you.
It gives you a new identity.
A sense of pride.
Awe and wonder.
A new perspective.
The edge is thin but its depth is vast.
I spent two days on the edge with a big group of my readers and life re-enterers last week.
And we all stepped on our own edge. All of us.
Life after loss requires discomfort. Making big decisions.
Saying no to things you have been saying yes to.
Leaving people behind. Ending relationships.
Selling houses. Getting on planes. Speaking your truth.
And we did it all.
All of it.
We were all on the edge together and somehow we got to stay on it longer than if we were standing on our own.
I am in awe of everyone who put their feet next to mine and put it all on the line last week.
The edge is not easy to walk on but once you do, you want to go back there. (Click to Tweet!)
What is your edge?
What are you afraid of doing?
With love and edges,
Christina
