On Edge

I am on edge.

I am on edge in my daily life.  I am grumpy and easily angered and needing more chocolate than usual.  I am busy and tired and sore and scattered and doing too many things without actually doing anything.  I take responsibility for my grumpiness because I’ve left behind, the past week or several, my daily meditation practice and my daily home practice and my daily journaling practice.

I have left these behind because – I am on an edge.

I am on the brink of something, and that something is big.  That something is life-changing, revolutionary, and it will flip around my entire world.  And the thing is, once I reach this point, I can’t go back.  I can never live my life the same again, and so, getting to this point is the point of no return.  Good-bye everything I ever knew.  Hello world of uncharted territories, of scary possibilities, of paving my way in a world that is completely unknown.

Don’t get me wrong:  this is a good thing.  I am moving in the right direction.  This thing on the edge of which I sit:  it’s a place I want to go; it’s a place I need to go.  The desperate thirst of my spirit is just waiting for me to shift.

But I’ve been holding back.  I realized I’ve been holding back the past couple of weeks, without realizing why.  And today, it hit me that I am scared.

No, maybe scared is an understatement.  I am terrified.  I am trembling.  I am mystified and mesmerized and wanting it all but paralyzed all at the same time.  Something is going to happen soon.  And if I wait, if I resist, maybe I can push it back a little bit.  Maybe I can have a little more time here, in this place that I know.  Maybe a few more days of comfort is what I really need.

But I know it’s coming for me, whether I push it back or not.  I can push it back and I can delay the arrival and I can drag my feet kicking and screaming, but it’s going to hit me.  Hard.  Whether I like it or not.

So what is this, this big change in which I am headed?  I don’t know.  I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it lurking.  I can feel it hovering, waiting to pounce.  It’s haunting my dreams.  My dreams are getting increasingly vivid and increasingly violent, and I know it’s because there might be some impatience.  Some frustration of the Universe with my pushing back so hard.  I don’t expect the dreams to diminish and I don’t expect the cloud following me around to lighten until I tumble head first over this ledge.   Until I fall in with no return.  It is coming, and I am going, and I am never coming back, and nothing will ever be the same.

And this is a good thing, but a scary thing.  But it’s good.  It’s good.  It’s good.

About the Author

Posted by

Amie is a human. She teaches yoga and writes and writes about yoga. She is not perfect, and she embraces her imperfections and writes about them here: www.amyisahuman.com.

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archive, Blog, Uncategorized

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[…] It feels just like I did back in September, when I nixed my meditation practice because it felt like I was eerily creepy to unlocking some door that I could never go back through.  (You can read that blog here.) […]

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