I find myself noticing the edges of things these past few weeks. Places where one thing ends and another begins. I think I’m seeking surety. In a season where I’m alternately surfing and ping ponging through a multitude of roles and responsibilities, I’m desperate for a resting place for my busy hands and busier mind.
There is the snow I’ve shoveled. There is the untouched snow.
This is water. This is sand.
The edges are my focal point when I get bogged down in drifts of snow, sand or paperwork. (A little of the second, a lot of the first and third.) They show me my path forward. They remind me where I’ve been. They give me a mental place to rest.
These are, of course, temporary. The snow melts, the waves keep moving, even the to-do list morphs over time.
Perhaps the edges are my soul’s way of coming back to the moment. A way to anchor my drifting spirit.
Here. This moment. Notice it. And then let it go.
There’s more to be done.