Where is the Edge of Possibility?

I have a little card I got from a co-worker years ago. It says, "It is not the easy or convenient life for which I seek, but the life lived to the edge of all my possibility." Not sure who wrote it but the card is up on my mantle now. It makes me kind of nervous.

I remember when I first got it I thought, wow, what a great thought...and yet, do I really want to live life to the edge of all my possibility? That sounds kinda hard. And maybe like a lot of work. And an easy and convenient life sounds really...well, nice.

I've kept the card for all these years, and, for all these years, it's always made me nervous. Sort of like it's looking at me, expectantly. And I always look back at it and say, no way, not yet anyway. I find it kind of interesting that I've actually kept the thing, given how uncomfortable I am with it.

I remember when I graduated from college I basically spent all my time when I wasn't working holed up in my apartment reading voraciously. All those books that I craved during school but didn't have time for because I was too busy reading the required books and writing papers and doing projects and angsting with my friends. I felt a little guilty but frankly that's all I wanted to do. I felt resentful when something from outside intruded into my little nest and took me away from my reading. It took me a while (umm, years really) to feel like I had read my fill and was willing to give up some of my reading time for other pleasures. Honestly, at the time, given a choice between reading and sex, reading would win hands down.

When I think about that time now, it seems to me that it was a reasonable reaction to the transition from childhood to adulthood. The childhood had its own fairly large set of pressures and stresses and really seemed to involve a lot of effort. And I think that I just wanted to take a little vacation from working so hard for so long. I don't think it was such a terrible thing; after all, I managed to work 2 jobs, pay the rent, cook food, clean up after myself and all that stuff.

Once past that stage, I led a very active and rewarding and interesting adult life. To many people I know it has looked adventurous. But I've always had this awareness that I still wasn't really filling up all the space available to me; I wasn't living to the edge of all my possibility. It's been a very happy life and I have no complaints, but I do think there's more there to be squeezed out. And in a way I've been living an extension of that earlier time.

I turned 40 last fall, and just lately as we've approached, and then passed, Beltaine I keep looking at that damn card, and it's like there's a voice in my head saying, "now". Of course, I'm freaking out a little bit but I also finally feel ready. And I think yes, that's right; everything has to be in its own proper time and that is different for everyone. It's beginning to make sense to me that finding your way into your full self really is a journey, complete with struggle and beautiful sights and surprises and meeting people and little vacations from the work of finding the next place to go until you're ready to go on.

I often use the concept with my students of arriving for practice, acknowledging that there may be aspects of yourself that simply can't arrive at the beginning, but leaving a door open for them when they do show up. When they show up, there's no shame or blame in the late arrival. I think similarly different parts of us are always showing up for our lives and then leaving again. So maybe the edge of possibility is the space that happens within when our whole self really does arrive.

copyright 2007 J. Autumn Needles