Notes from An Alien

~ Explorations In Reading, Writing & Publishing ~

The Edge of Life…

Dedicated to
Jane Darnton Watson

I’ve so often pushed—pushed situations, pushed boundaries, pushed a large number of people—way too far…

Then, there’s the getting pushed by the repercussions of a moldering society—it used to make me push out even more—lately, makes me so sad I stop the pushing and pray…

Is the midpoint of this pushing and being pushed the Edge of Life?

I think not quite…

Is the world-wide test, in the year 2020, of enduring the attack of Covid-19 the Edge of Life?

I’m sure some feel that way; in fact, some are ready to jump off this Edge—short-circuit the test—kill themselves.

I do feel that the desire to end one’s life is a taste of the Edge; but, it often doesn’t end up being the Edge of Life.

A few famous people have said: “If you’re not living life on the edge, you’re taking up too much space.”

Speaking of space ( which I seriously doubt has an Edge ), some do find that exploring the infinite Space in their minds leads them to many Edges, some of which can’t even be put into words.

The Edge of Life: some actually feel drawn to that phrase—some are appalled by it.

If we were to investigate the phrase, stringing together meanings, we’d never get to the Edge

But, it could go something like this:

“Life” = “The condition , quality , or fact of being a living organism” — which leads to a hopeless journey into the paths of the words “living” and “organism”; then, another journey down the roads of “Edge” and “outside limit” and “object” and “area” and “surface”; then, being so far from the Edge of Life, most people will chuck the whole exercise and gravitate right back to the Middle of the Road…


What if we enter the Realm of “word origins”, the venerable Etymologies…?

“Edge” goes back to “…be sharp, rise ( out ) to a point, pierce.”; then, “Life” goes back to “…stick, adhere.”; and then, with those meanings, are we closer to the Edge of Life…?

Perhaps a little story might help.

Once upon a time, there was a child who didn’t like the way the world was. This child would complain to any grown-up that would take the time to listen ( and, quite a few grown-ups who theyd chase around to complain to… ).

Naturally, this child grew up despised by most of the folks who’d been treated to all the complaining; in fact, rumor has it that this child’s parents assumed new identities and, to this day, can’t be located.

But, dear reader, note that I’d said “despised by most of the folks”. The very few who sat patiently and listened carefully to this poor child ( not just the normal “listening” that hears nearly nothing… ), those folks, were open enough to have their minds struck by certain nuggets of knowledge—gems of wisdom—that this child could see lighting up the adult faces—a simple but glorious interplay that helped this young person become an adult who could truly be said to live on the Edge of Life

If you can’t get a Handle on the Edge of Life from that little story, I’d suggest you travel out on the Edge of some situation or other, until you arrive at the Point of that situation—perhaps dwelling on Point of Life will instruct you in the intricacies of the Edge………

Which Edge are you on?

Being Morally Risqué? Not really recommended… I’ve been there—suffered for many decades.

Being Extremely Rich? Not by itself—just ask the Rich who hate life.

Being the Captain of your Soul? Now we’re getting somewhere; except, even Captains must answer to a Higher Authority.

An ancient man I met while exploring a particular Edge within the infinite Space of my mind told me:

“Liquify your ego and pour it out with your tears, over and over and over—this is one way to bridge the gap and, eventually, leap to the Edge of Life…”

And, if liquifying your ego leads to not even a scrap of knowledge about the Edge, I can only offer a poem for you to ponder………

On the edge is where I live, and

Edges can be fine. So fine they

Sever wants from acts and leave no

Blood behind.

This edge I’m on comes from the

Depths—a well of yearning


Severance is the

Price to

Pay for

Grace to

Carry On

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