Working the Edge

Hear Dan read this post.

for Jane

It is an ancient analogy: consciousness is to unconsciousness as land is to the sea. At the edge, there is a beach where stones are washed smooth and round, and the driftwood lies heaped and battered from the storms. A place of immense beauty, it is the continent’s edge, filled with the sounds of seabirds, wind in the grasses and white water that tumbles down constantly upon itself, fanning smooth across the sand.

The edge. To walk here is to let the wisdom in. Hard decisions become easier by looking out across the restless unknown to the very curvature of the earth. Or by simply looking down to find a gemlike pebble of worn glass like a recovered memory of home. Clouds, inner and outer, sweep their shadows before them.


The salt air carries the rich scent of life and its cycles. The wings flash their migrations. The shells you pick up are lives cast off and foretell the new ones yet to come.

How many times, at least in your mind’s eye, have you walked that beach alone, asking your questions? Waiting, allowing the sea to deliver what it is meant to bring, knowing that it is polishing you, too?

Technorati tags: , Cannon Beach, and

One Comment

  • Anonymous wrote:

    Thank you for your poetic prose so aptly describing life’s experiences both as we travelled to Cannon Beach and as we travel life’s journey of discovery at the edge. Thank you for all you have helped me and others discover, if only we have the courage to see.
    All my love, Jane

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