Growing Edge

So Bess, my dear friend, I am going to try to start writing again.

I have been thinking a lot lately about "growing edges." What exactly IS a "growing edge?" I've been using the term frequently in relationship to a difficult situation with which I have been dealing for the last several months. I have been thinking of the "growing edge" as confronting that with which I am uncomfortable or doing something with which I have very little experience. I suppose that is a good enough definition, but I have been wondering where this "growing edge" will take me and when it will stop. How many "growing edges" can I have at one time?

My mental picture of a "growing edge" is like that of caramel or some other viscous substance being poured out of a bowl. It starts with a fall of gooeyness and an edge is present and begins to spread, but as the substance continues to pour forth, layers form, adding more edges on top of or overtaking the bottom edges. Sometimes the top layers remain distinct atop the bottom layer and sometimes they melt into each other to push the outlying edge even further from its original place.

Lately, I feel like there has been a lot of extra goo pouring out of the vessel and pushing my "growing edge" toward the outer regions of my comfort zone. Then again, if I don't get pushed out of my comfort zone, the goo could just pile up higher and higher, bearing down with an enormous weight. I suppose it's better to be pushed out than to be suffocated.

Surprisingly, I do feel empowered by my spreading. Perhaps I am becoming more transparent. I am certainly more vulnerable than if I were to hide under a fortress of layers. It would take extraordinary measures to cut through the piles of hardened stratum to get to the bottom edge that has essentially stopped growing. But, it wouldn't take much to touch those places that could shift the trajectory of my "growing edge." A poke here, a swipe there, and suddenly, I am off in a different direction.

To grow, can I be thick enough not to simply splash against the surface and land on life willy-nilly? Can I be thin enough not to simply pile into a heap and refuse to learn more than I already know? How do I find consistency?

I've been blended into who I am by the ingredients that are my parents. I've been mixed with care by experience. I've been alternately boiled and cooled. And, I am being poured out. Poured out onto the surfaces of my home, my family, my work, my friends, my church. Perhaps on some surfaces consistency depends on where I land. I congeal when I hit a cold spot. I spread wildly when I feel the heat. I settle into contentment (or is it complacency?) when the surface is just right and I can continue to roll forward at a slow and comfortable pace.

What is a "growing edge?" I am.