A collection of essays on life, teaching, parenting, and finding the good in this crazy world.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The Edge of Things
Like you, I’m sane and living at the edge of things. The countryside is flooded with light. Unlike you, I’m scared at what lies beyond.
You know what you have, what feeds you. I am at the edge, restless, brought here by disappointment and longing. My edge overlooks green undulating hills which cascade to the valley floor beyond. Long stems of grass bend in greeting to each other. Small farms dot the landscape, the whiteness of their walls shining like lights on the verdant canvas. Beech trees cluster in groups, destined to live their lives in constant conversation. One small cloud floats in a gentle breeze across the open sky but does nothing to diminish the light. The brightness at the edge cannot fade.
Behind me, the light barely penetrates. Darkness takes over and feels cold to the touch. Yet there is safety there among the trees and the gloom. I know where to find food and warmth. I cannot die there. I have numbed myself to the discomfort that, up to now, I thought to be insignificant. The dreariness stifles and I find myself looking beyond. The breeze whispers to me, promising things beyond my imagination.
Beyond the edge of things, the light sometimes blinds me. There are so many possibilities, so much to believe in. It is a light that I can barely understand. Yet I know it. I know its source. I’ve known it for eons. It is something deep and recognizable within. When I feel its warmth on my face, the light feels so good it is barely to be believed. It dissolves the shadows on my face and illuminates everything in front of me. It calls, urging me to find the faith, simply to know.
From my precarious existence on the edge of things, the bile of fear rises up in my throat. Those same feelings have kept me here too long. I know what I need to do. Even though I have been immobilized, my heart is certain that this is the time. Out there, connections are unfulfilled, passions undiscovered. Freedom, in whatever form it takes, awaits.
I turn my back on the safety of the woodland, the home I have known since childhood. I unfurl my wings and gasp for the first time at their majesty. I breathe in a mouthful of radiant air and leap. The wind strengthens to meet me in a welcome embrace. It lifts me beyond the edge and I find myself soaring. Turning back once with a fond look back at what has been, I focus my eyes ahead. The light is there, brighter than I have ever seen before. All fear quietly falls away. I am met. And I know that at last I have found my true path.
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Very powerful writing piece. Thanks for sharing!
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