Meeting the Edge

There is a moment that happens—quiet, often subtle—right before we turn away from something that could change us. I met that moment recently.

In my 300-hour yoga teacher training, we’ve been diving deeply into yogic mythology. Stories rich with symbolism, layered meaning, and ancient language. And if I’m being honest… I struggled.

Not just intellectually—but somatically.

I felt resistance rise up in my body. Confusion. Frustration.

A quiet voice whispering, “You don’t understand this… you’re not good at this… maybe you should just step back.”

It got to the point where I considered calling in sick to class.

Not because I was physically unwell—but because I was uncomfortable.

Instead, I did something different.
I reached out to my instructor.

Her response was simple, but it landed deeply:
“This is an edge. Get curious.”

What is an edge?

An edge is the place where we meet the boundary of what we know, what feels safe, and who we believe ourselves to be.

It’s the space between the familiar and the unknown.
Between contraction and expansion.

And more often than not, we misinterpret it.

We think:
“I’m not ready.”
“This isn’t for me.”
“I’m not capable.”

But what if that discomfort isn’t a stop sign?

What if it’s an invitation?

The ways we hold ourselves back

How many times in life do we turn away at the edge?

We resist change because it feels uncertain.
We fear success because it asks us to become someone new.
We avoid growth because it disrupts the identity we’ve grown comfortable holding.

The edge doesn’t always feel inspiring.

Sometimes it feels like doubt.
Sometimes it feels like fear.
Sometimes it feels like wanting to run.

Yoga as a map

Yoga teaches us that life is not linear—it is cyclical.

Creation.
Destruction.
Sustenance.

We see this reflected in the natural world, in our relationships, and in our own inner landscapes.

At the edge, something is being asked to be released.
Something new is trying to emerge.
And something within us is learning how to hold both.

This is the dance.

In yogic philosophy, we might relate this to:

• Tapas — the willingness to stay in the fire of transformation

• Svadhyaya — self-study, observing our patterns without judgment

• Ishvara Pranidhana — surrender, trusting the unfolding

And perhaps most importantly—Satya (truth).

The truth is: growth rarely feels comfortable.
The truth is: we often want to turn away right before something shifts.
The truth is: the edge is where transformation begins.

Staying

I didn’t call in sick.

I showed up.

Not fully confident.
Not fully understanding.
But willing.

And something softened.

Not because I suddenly mastered the material—but because I stayed in relationship with the discomfort instead of abandoning myself within it.

Gratitude for the path

When I look back on the last four years of my life—the grief, the loss, the unraveling—I can see now that I have been living at the edge for a long time.

And while I would never wish that kind of pain on anyone…
I can say this:

It changed me.

It softened me.
It opened me.
It allowed me to see light in places I never would have looked before.

Without that destruction, there would have been no space for creation.
Without the breaking, there would have been no becoming.

A gentle invitation

Where is your edge right now?

Where are you being invited to stay, instead of turn away?

Can you get curious—just for a moment—about the discomfort?

Not to push through it.
Not to force growth.

But simply to meet yourself there.

Because sometimes…
the edge is not where we fall apart.

It’s where we begin.