On the Edge

“I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all  kinds of things you can't see from the center.” 
― Kurt Vonnegut


        What do you think about this notion?  It appeals to me so much but I can't seem to put my finger on why the attraction.  That's me on the edge of that fire engine's 175 foot extended ladder.  It was  a demo for the school kids and they asked for a volunteer (adult!) to climb the ladder.  And so I did.  And I hung out there on the edge and experienced the adrenaline and watched the world below me.  I saw all kinds of things I could never have seen from my feet-firmly-planted-on-the-ground place on earth.

       I am a huge fan of the ocean in all its glory.  The ocean sits on the edge of the earth.  I am spellbound by ocean breezes, depths of color,  dangerous cliff edges, and the potential drop to the sea. Scared but  alive.

    Sometimes edges have warnings.

    But, just as often, they don't.

     In everyday life, I encounter edges, places where you can see the end of something.  Sometimes, it is a storefront jumping to the sky or the edge of humor touching the edge of hurt.  It's common stuff but it is the edge.

      There are the times when the illustrious sit on edge with the commonplace.  I sometimes get the feeling that  expectations are on the edge of reality, ready to jump off and see what really is.

    Edges don't have to be straight, you know. Edges can be torn or undulating.  They can start and stop, appear and disappear.  Sometimes you find edges with cracks.  I think I find those edges with cracks on the most interesting days, the days when I am no longer sure of who I am, what I am doing, or where it is I am going.  Nothing is sure on those days, except uncertainty.

  It isn't very often but the edge can be soft and gentle.  It can feel warm and fuzzy, not at all sharp and, well, edgy.  It can feel like, if you were to jump off the edge, the landing would be harmless and maybe even fun.

 
    Edges don't have to be high up there like that first picture.  No, edges can be small but, if you miss a step, the edge can make for a painful fall.  And, when edges are small, you have to look more carefully before you step, lest you crush something of beauty.

     I don't know about you, but sometimes I make my own edges.  I create the excitement, the fear, the messiness, and sometimes I go over the edge and sometimes I don't.

      A week or so ago, I had a dream in which I was walking on the southern end of the Golden Gate Bridge.  Impulsively, I decided to climb the chain link fence along the edge (is there even a chain link fence there in real life?) and, yes, leap off the bridge. In the instant that I jumped, my self yelled at my body, "NO! THIS IS IRREVOCABLE!"  Too late.  My body dropped through the air, sailing from the bridge's edge to the edge of the sea.  CRACK!  I broke the surface of the water, body snaping the cold, mind catching the flash of light.  What an edge!  Interesting end to that dream.  As I gurgled my way in the cold, murky Pacific Ocean, I thought, "Ah, but I am still alive!"

     Edges.  What do you think?  Do you like to stand as close to the edge as you can?