Leges and Edges

 

“At the edges, Look to the edges. There’s always hope at the edges.” Rowan Williams

I have a fear of ledges. But edges are another thing. I am drawn to them, intrigued by them, and learn from them. Perhaps that is why I am finding such inspiration in some recent reading which, albeit in very different contexts, offers the value of “edges”. 

Edges are thresholds to novel and liminal space; ledges often really limit that transition or travel. We might spend time at the edge instead of retreating toward the common middle.

I have thought a lot of what takes place at the edges. I think about all that transpires at the borders, new life at best, and too often torture and turmoil. New birth at the edge of the birth canal, also presenting danger, but certainly the threshold to this crazy beautiful world! 

Shorelines, river banks, are edges which support and guide the mysterious wonders of water. Where earth and sky meet, in the humus, roots take shelter in the edges of dirt and communicate in another mysterious numinous space we might appreciate more fully. And, of course, the edges of relationships where intimacy takes place, where we touch one another! 

In this world fraught with fear and anxiety, I wonder if we might gaze out from the edges and contemplate a vastness which is everything. Chaotic and comforting, desperate and hopeful. I wonder if the mere “wonder” stance at the edge is not the key to embracing this threshold to eternity and inhabiting the mysterium.