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Being on an island, you’re always running into edges, no matter what direction you go, and so on our recent trip to Hawaii I couldn’t stop noticing edges everywhere I turned.

Twenty years ago when I visited Oahu we traced the edge of the island and found – predictably – that the land constantly ran into the sea and there was no escape. I briefly experienced “island fever,” which made me think of island edges as a form of natural containment. Being an explorer at heart I am naturally tempted to push the edges and “back then” this meant getting on a plane after some less-than-stunning snorkeling. But this time we did not stop at Oahu, but pushed on to Kauai. On Kauai the idea of containment is simply ludicrous, despite very stark and stunning edges around every bend.

On Kauai I rediscovered edges.

The Kauaian edges between land and sea are captivating, a fascinating blend of dangerous elemental collisions where the sea pummels unforgiving volcanic residue, the edge of the great blue deep perpetually smashing down on black rocks and then sucking the weaker pebbles, secretly pulling them back below the powerful eddies of its undertow. Sitting on the edge of this ongoing battle is a favorite pastime of mine, and on Kauai I reveled in it, especially on a not-so-hidden, but still-hard-to-reach beach along the Na Pali Coast (Hanakapi'ai). It’s impossible not to be aware of the risky nature of edges when you perch between where the waves break; survival tactics differ so dramatically on either side of you that the importance of staying firmly on one side or the other becomes paramount. This heightened awareness is itself a gift, however, and walking the rooted and rocky cliff path to this beach, exploring its caves and then climbing some of its rocky cliffs focused me on gorgeous detail I might otherwise have missed.

Looking carefully at the micro details of this massive edge transformed it for me - from a containment barrier to an adventure.

I became so conscious of the fact that I was on the edge – in this case between land and sea – that I began to observe my reactions to other edges as we explored the island further. Not all edges are sharp and violent, and many roads and trails we followed along steep cliffs were gentle and curving. Pondering as we traveled I realized that over the last two decades I have come to appreciate edges – even the dangerous ones. I now find them freeing as a delineation between things, the recognition of which offers me choices – to push beyond, to retreat from, and to follow along for the sheer joy of simultaneously living on both sides.

Nowhere has this constant tracing of danger been more evident than in my career, the life of a consultant being a perpetual dance along the edge between wealth and destitution. Wandering the edges in Kauai I realized that I have become comfortable exploring the consulting edge, comfortable to the point of truly enjoying it and perhaps more importantly gaining faith in my ability to navigate its gentle dips and weaves as well as its sheer, heart stopping drop-offs. While I won’t claim that my husband has developed the same love of the consulting edge, my comfort on this edge is giving me the courage to take my practice in new directions and the patience to let parts of these businesses evolve, to explore their natural contour as the waves of client need pound out weaker spots to reveal firm and solid capability at the core of me.

I found other edges in our island explorations surprisingly interesting, uncovering little treasures in bead stores, for example. Though not particularly “edgy” from the outside, once they got inside me, some of these little bits of bone and stone probed my relationship to beauty, pushing against a containment barrier I hadn’t known was there. Compelled to buy certain baubles because they were simply lovely, and despite the fact that I couldn’t imagine wearing them myself, I realized that my creativity has developed a habit of bumping up against my own consumer mentality, reflecting a moderated and practical aesthetic. Would it go in my house? Does it go with my wardrobe? Is it a good value for my money? These questions assume an economically necessary, but still narcissistic edge - a constraint around my own perception of beauty that is not necessarily even there in any ultimate sense.

The beauty of a lavender jade Chinese bead and a dragon carved bone pendant in particular challenged me to unleash my creative energy in new ways and explore their edges for the simple joy of doing so, absent the pragmatic question of whether I or anyone else I knew might wear them. After all, other people’s houses are different than mine, as are their wardrobes and value equations. What I if I lifted my personal limitations on which kinds of beauty I pursued? What if I followed the edges suggested by a lovely piece simply for the joy of it? What might I create then? I suppose these questions demonstrate that I’m learning to explore the edges of my pear.

In the end, our trip to Kauai, while offering the boyz many waterlogged hours of body surfing, gave me a new chance to explore the edges of things. In fact, I’m well over the edge in a few areas of my life and my consciousness about just how far I’ve come since their crossing is now a little sharper. This excites me and my commitment to explore these new territories leaves me eager to find the new edges ahead.
 
Life is truly a journey and I am truly an explorer. With a little luck and a little skill I hope to keep finding edges to plunge beyond and to dance along. Want to join me?

Photo credits: Me! (well, except for the pic of me, which is hubby’s handywork.) The pic of the boy is my eldest son, and adventurer in his own right.