Living on the Edge

8 minutes ago

4 min read

What does it mean when people talk about leaning into your edge?

This is a phrase commonly used in the personal development and transformation world, as well as in the worlds of sports and business. In its more unhealthy form, it can mean pushing yourself until you physically, emotionally, and mentally can’t go any further.

A lot of us were taught that way of working, training, and studying. It reminds me not only of training rigorously in basketball practice and staying up all night studying in school, but also of my past relationships—giving much more than I had the capacity for, all because my sensitivity to my edge was greatly underdeveloped.

There is a difference between the edge, hitting a brick wall, and falling over a cliff. Here, I want to talk about those differences and why it’s important to know them.

Years ago, I thought leaning into my edge meant “push harder” and “you can rest when you’re dead.” That’s what I remember learning in sports and scholastics. I was told that mentality would lead to success.

I realize there is a time and place for pushing harder, and it is a blessing to have the ability to shift into that. But I believe, more often than not, we are living on the edge more than we think, and we can begin to feel and work with it well before we’ve surpassed it and slipped into dissociation and disconnection.

I understand the edge mostly as it relates to the nervous system. The edge is shaped by our capacity, or what is often referred to as the window of tolerance. I think the edge exists around the boundary of that window—the place where something in us starts to feel challenged enough that we notice uncomfortable feelings, emotions, or a nervous system response, while usually leaving us enough capacity to stay present, relate to what is happening, and gradually expand and stretch that window.

This is a lot different than total overwhelm or, in other words, falling completely off the cliff. It reminds me of the “mind over matter” or “the mind will break before the body does” adages in our culture. Those tropes have contributed to loads of dissociation that, of course, not only disconnect us from ourselves but also train us to disconnect from others by projecting onto them what we think they are capable of.

This disconnection, which is so common in our society, can contribute to burnout, crippling anxiety, chronic fatigue, high blood pressure, and many other stress-related health concerns.

I think it is true that people can be in a nervous system response and triggered state while still being connected to that experience, capable of relating to what is happening, and able to expand, grow, and learn. Being activated doesn’t mean we’re incapable of learning. One of the gifts of working with our edge is that we gradually develop the ability to stay connected to ourselves even while we feel fear, discomfort, grief, or uncertainty.

The perception of an edge lives within, and everyone’s edge is different. Someone may be very comfortable being in an activated state and know what is necessary to return to homeostasis, while someone else may have very little tolerance for feeling and working with the very same circumstances.

Oftentimes, the edge isn’t about pushing ourselves but coming back to homeostasis. The edge can be something you would rather not experience or something your system is simply not used to. Perhaps the edge is found on the pathway that is opposite of your normal patterns of conditioning.

I know one of my edges is taking breaks from working. My pattern is to push and push and push until the job is done, seldom taking breaks and continuing to move. When I ignore the signals telling me I’ve reached my edge and continue pushing beyond what my system can reasonably hold, I eventually crash, dissociate, and become stuck in a state that disconnects me from myself and others. It doesn’t feel good because it isn’t. I don’t learn anything there. Instead, I’m doing repair work that could have been avoided by honoring my edge sooner.

There is no need to burst through walls without consideration for what your system can reasonably handle. I hope that no teacher, guide, friend, or supporter ever pushes you beyond what your system is ready for. Ultimately, only you can feel where your edge is, but a skilled guide can help you recognize it and work with it safely, honoring your pace.

When I’m working with people, sometimes we reach an edge and it becomes very obvious that we need to either stay present with it or slowly move away from it. Other times, a person senses the edge before we even reach it and is ready to continue moving toward it slowly, at a pace that allows the system to meet it and relate to it differently while maintaining connection.

There are many edges within our psyche, and the nervous system will activate when we move toward a feeling, memory, or experience it deems unsafe. When that happens, it’s okay. Notice what the nervous system is wanting and honor that response. Oftentimes, staying with the edge or the arousal is what builds capacity. Sometimes stepping away from it is. Learning the difference is one of the greatest skills of self-awareness we can cultivate.

Over time, what once felt like the edge becomes familiar ground, and while exploring new territory, a new edge inevitably appears. With practice, we get better and better at recognizing and working with the newfound edges within us.

Practice

I won’t be offering practices with sentence stems anymore. Instead, from now on, I’ll be offering three journal prompts related to the week’s topic.

What thoughts, memories, experiences, or relationships make me feel uncomfortable?
What patterns do I participate in that commonly lead me toward distress, overwhelm, or dissociation?
What was the last situation I found myself in that made me so uncomfortable I needed to quickly step away to protect myself?

It is possible you’ll discover one edge—or many—while reflecting on these prompts.