At almost every conceivable level of our imagining, it is impossible to create a change without a discontinuity, without a moment of not knowing who we are, or what we are going to become. Rupture precedes revolution.
As humans, we have a confused relationship with edges, boundaries and limitations, which can be seen as one and the same thing, unified paradoxically by their dividing potential… We seek them even when, as a psychological or relational construct, we recoil from their necessity, and will often find ourselves drawn to and entranced by the water’s edge: the shifting line between sand and sea, the horror of the cliff’s edge. Our pull towards edges is magnetic, our playfulness around them notable. We are compelled to edges, boundaries and limits, like an intrusive thought that we don’t want but can’t resist going towards… Edges are, in some ways, an embodiment of the core dilemma about how to live, and how to live under the spectre of death. Boundaries say here is OK, but beyond is the insistent abyss, and I am curious about that. Limits give us a place to challenge ourselves and triumph over. They provide an opportunity for growth, where going beyond a limit can test our courage, expand our hitherto unknown ability, and consolidate our resilience for yet another new horizon that appears as we pass through what’s now behind us.
At almost every conceivable level of our imagining, it is impossible to create a change without a discontinuity, without a moment of not knowing who we are, or what we are going to become. Rupture precedes revolution.
As humans, we have a confused relationship with edges, boundaries and limitations, which can be seen as one and the same thing, unified paradoxically by their dividing potential… We seek them even when, as a psychological or relational construct, we recoil from their necessity, and will often find ourselves drawn to and entranced by the water’s edge: the shifting line between sand and sea, the horror of the cliff’s edge. Our pull towards edges is magnetic, our playfulness around them notable. We are compelled to edges, boundaries and limits, like an intrusive thought that we don’t want but can’t resist going towards… Edges are, in some ways, an embodiment of the core dilemma about how to live, and how to live under the spectre of death. Boundaries say here is OK, but beyond is the insistent abyss, and I am curious about that. Limits give us a place to challenge ourselves and triumph over. They provide an opportunity for growth, where going beyond a limit can test our courage, expand our hitherto unknown ability, and consolidate our resilience for yet another new horizon that appears as we pass through what’s now behind us.
In short, edges are frontiers where we find ourselves.
Limits may slow us down long enough to breathe in what we already have, but they do not reduce meaning. In some cases, they may generate more. We’re not designed to be at capacity all the time, endlessly stimulated by activities, saturated in tasks to tick off… To remind ourselves of our limits is a kindness.
Reaching our boundaries is not the same as limiting our growth. Sometimes we find our edges and an amazing thing happens; capacity is rebuilt, old wounds are healed and we grow further and more beautifully than before. The process is analogous to mineral growth in rock. Without a surface and a set of containing edges, minerals that we prize for their beauty, function and even healing properties do not have the right conditions to develop. Crystals do not grow in the open, where space is boundless. Where crystals become their most vivid and multi-faceted is where there is containment that gives shape and definition to what is alchemically coming together on the inside.
We all need a container to hold and ferment the rich potential of our energy and talents — this is the crucible of newness from which all creativity and life flows.
— Ruth Allen
Thanks to the folks at The Marginalian for this find
