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January 10, 2013
Edge walking. Border crossing. Rim hugging. Discovering, dwelling in the fringe phases of life is not easy. There is no comfort at the border. There is trepidation, breath taking, aliveness, where something or someone is ending.

There's a feeling of helplessness. A resignation profoundly unfamiliar. A knowing that there is nothing to be done. There is only staying with the feeling, being a witness to the ending.

There is courage. There's a stripping away of the pretense of control. There is noble weakness, too. One senses the universal suffering of the world.

Surviving a loss is discovering the edge.