“I stood at the border, stood at the edge and claimed it as central. I claimed it as central, and let the rest of the world move over to where I was.” - Toni Morrison
I stood at the edge today. A physical one. The edge of a lake. It reflected back to me the same way it mirrors the mountains and clouds looming overhead. I contemplated venturing further in, but ultimately decided I wasn’t yet ready for what would meet me there. Instead of plunging into the deep, allowing the water’s mysteries to envelop me all at once, I decided to take the approach of easing in, taking my time.
Growing up near the ocean, I’ve become familiar with its currents, its rhythmic patterning. Lakes, on the other hand, are far more unfamiliar. It’s likely that they are more similar than they are different. Both deep and vast and blue. I’m just more familiar with one than the other.
How does the uncomfortable become more comfortable? Or does it ever? Is it our relationship to the discomfort that changes instead? Which is the variable and which the constant? Let’s explore together.
The truth is, I’ve been standing on the edge for quite awhile. So long, I’ve begun to memorize its shape, the jagged contour that gives way to something unknown. With time, you begin to see the limits more clearly, the thinly veiled curtain between where you are and where you’re going.
I recently took up running. Not for any reason despite the fact that I’ve always wanted to be someone who is capable of running multiple miles without stopping. The runner’s high, that meditative state of flow, the feeling of mentally challenging your physical body to push past resistance. During a guided run the instructor challenged us to find the balance of effort and ease in our strides. The same can be said about finding a meditation posture in which you can be both comfortable yet alert.
We can also apply this to the idea of discovering and riding a growth edge. Growth edges require this feeling of tolerating the discomfort that comes with shedding belief systems and rewiring behaviors in order to come into deeper alignment with the true essence of who you are. Discomfort gives way to comfort. Steps taken with shaky legs begin to become more secure, your body learning to trust your footing with every step.
Growth edges occur wherever there is change and our perception is being challenged.
They are those places that have fear on one side and change on the other. The edge is the place in the middle. It’s the threshold of moving from the known to the unknown.
Last year, the desire to explore the world was sparked on a solo trip to Mexico. I spent a glorious week by the sand and sea. I filled my days following one intuitive nudge after the next. I read, walked, journaled, learned how to surf, people watched like it was my full time job. Mostly, I did a lot of nothing. I left feeling more connected to myself than I had in years. I knew then that I wanted more of that feeling. Complete freedom. Spaciousness. The sensation of drinking from the fountain of life. Access to the creativity that flows effortlessly in and through me.
The seed was planted last May.
Today, I’m harvesting the fruit.
“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” ― Anais Nin
A little over a year later, I’m writing from my little cabin in a quaint village bordering the third largest lake in Guatemala. I sublet my Los Angeles apartment, put my things in storage, packed my remaining items into two backpacks, and began my journey.
I’m miles away from home, yet I feel right at home. My home is in the world. My home is amongst the trees. My home is near the water. And above all, I am my home.
A lot of people have asked me if I’m nervous. Just last month, I was assaulted in broad daylight on the streets of Los Angeles. I’m no more afraid in a foreign place than I am at home. I’m more afraid of my life passing me by, of being a passive participant.
The misconception I’ve formerly held about growth edges was that they require you to make a leap. Leaping is one way. Or, you can ease in, one step at a time.
Stand on the edge of your life. Observe its jellyfish-like borders. Translucent and flexible. How can you begin to shift your perception to align with your true desires? How can you begin to think of the edge as central? Can you be patient long enough for the world to meet you there?
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Take Care,
Asha Nia
Love the idea of easing in! Leaping feels too scary and so I end up not moving at all. Thanks for sharing ♥️
“ people watched like it was my full time job “ I laughed at loud lol.
Yep! You’ve been doing it your whole life lol!