Living on the Growing Edge

New Years Eve was a strange one this year. Not very surprising I know. We could not mark and celebrate as we would normally, so we had to adapt. I hosted the “Watch Night Service” as 2020 crossed over into 2021. The service was enjoyed by folk in person and on Zoom. The evening had begun on Zoom with our weekly poetry night “Consolation, Sorrow and Joy” I then kept the Zoom open until midnight. It was perhaps not the smartest move on my part, as I was only wearing a shirt and jacket and it was a cold night sitting for six hours in the chapel. A few people did log on to say hello and have a chat. Sue arrived at about 10.30pm and we enjoyed some lovely food together that she had lovingly prepared. That night as I crossed the threshold, in that inbetween space, that liminal space, I enjoyed my time alone waiting and reflecting on what had been and what was yet to come. I felt like I was on the edge of something, not just time and space but life, it felt like the growing edge of everything, of life.

The time alone in the chapel allowed me to reflect on the year that had passed and the year that we are all stepping into. These will be difficult days ahead for us all and we need to prepare ourselves to live through it. It is no point just clinging on and hoping for the day after Covid, we need to live now and live the best way that we can. Yes of course we need to plan for the future, but we cannot stop living while we do so. We have this time now and we must not stop living. These were the thoughts I was reflecting on as I sat there on the edge of the year, the living edge, the growing edge, wondering what we were all stepping into.

Earlier that evening, during the poetry night, I had decided to break protocol and share a short piece of prose, “The Growing Edge” by Howard Thurman.. Earlier that day I read a beautiful reflection via Facebook on the piece by Parker J Palmer posted for the New Year. Parker J Palmer along with Carrie Newcomer whose poem we read earlier host a wonderful online resource titled “The Growing Edge” which I highly recommend to you all.

The Growing Edge

That evening as I sat alone I could feel “The Growing Edge” was stirring in me. As I sat there that night I thought I might include Howard Thurman’s words in the service. So I printed it and a few other pieces off and had them in reserve along with the script I had prepared. I had a full reading desk that night, they were almost hanging off that ever growing edge.

From about 11.30pm folk began to arrive for the service, Sue greeted them as we followed all the usual Covid secure procedures. There was not the usual number but about a dozen of us joined together on that “Growing Edge” of the old and new year, while others joined us on Zoom. An old friend was present. He was in particular good spirits as his daughter had given birth the day before. I had heard of a couple other new births in the last few days, it has been suggested that they should be called “Lockdown” babies. Who knows, babies are born constantly. It was lovely to see the obvious joy on my fiends face, especially considering the fact that he had only reconciled with his daughter some 18 months earlier after a big family fall out. It was a beautiful reminder that life does go on despite all the real loss that we are all experiencing. Yes, loss by the death of loved ones but also loss of the things we would normally do in our lives. As we live through another necessary lockdown this is something, that we are all experiencing again. We are in the middle of a long, difficult winter. That said life goes on, it will always go on. We are living in and through this it is of no use to anyone to just live for the day when the pandemic will be over, to completely hibernate. We cannot live this way; we have to find ways to live in these times of challenge. Yes, plan for life in the future, but we still must live fully alive in this day, as difficult as it is. Me must of course stay physically distant, as much as possible, but that does not me that we shut down who we are. What is required is adjustment in how we live; what is required is adaptation.

Here are the words I shared, “The Growing Edge” by Howard Thurman

“All around us life is dying and life is being born. The fruit ripens on the tree, the roots are silently at work in the darkness of the earth against a time when there shall be new leaves, fresh blossoms, green fruit. Such is the growing edge!

This is the basis of hope in moments of despair, the incentive to carry on when times are out of joint and dreams whiten into ash. The birth of the child—life’s most dramatic answer to death—this is the growing edge incarnate. Look well to the growing edge!”

That night as I shared the “Watch Night” service I looked into my friend eyes, you could only see his eyes because of the mask. I am noticing peoples eyes more and more these days. As I looked into the joy and deep emotion in his eyes the line from Thurman came to me:  “The birth of a child—life’s most dramatic answer to death—this is the growing edge incarnate.” As I did, I knew then that I had to share the words of Thurman in the service. I certainly needed to remember that in this year that has known so much loss on so many levels, that new life is forever being born again. It is so vital to remember this at this time of lockdown. We need to keep on creating life, I do not mean babies necessarily, but in every area of existence, even in this time when we are restricted by what we can do. We need to create and build not only for the future but in the present too. Yes, we cannot mix physically but we can create ways to help one another and of course ourselves. So, let us look well to the growing edge, for this is life.

By the way, we are always living on “The Growing Edge”, this is the way of life. I had an interesting Zoom conversation with a member of the chapel who is also a regular in the poetry group on New Years Eve. It was suggested that perhaps we should rename it as “Consolation, Sorrow and Joy” seemed a little negative sounding as we have such fun in the group. Certainly, we do, but we do share all kinds of poetry some recognising the sorrows of life, some offering consolation and others uttely joy filled and of course some that are simply chuffing hilarious.  There is a lot of joy shared, even in difficult times. We could change the name and if a better one comes up then I am certainly open to it. Do you have any ideas?

The poetry night speaks so powerfully to me of the “Growing Edge”, for during that time we experience all aspects of it. To quote Parker J Palmer while reflecting on a conversation that he Carrie Newcomer had following the death of a dear friend and the news of another’s pregnancy:

“That afternoon, we talked about the way death and life, grief and joy, dance nonstop with each other around the world, day and night. It might not be a friend who dies; it might be a hope, or a work, or a relationship. It might not be a baby en route to being born; it might be a vision, an opportunity to learn or serve, or a small nudge towards who-knows-what.

To see life steadily and see it whole, we must find ways to hold the paradox of life-in-death and death-in-life. We can’t live lives of meaning and purpose if we succumb to the horrors of “apocalypse now” or fly off into the Aquarian fantasy of a day when “peace will guide the planets and love will steer the stars.””

It is not just at the new year, or in the midst of a pandemic, but all days that we need to look to “The Growing Edge”. It is about living in and through hope. “The Growing Edge” seems like the perfect antidote to fatalism and cynicism, there is much we can do to bring hope, when hope is hard to find.

I wonder what your “Growing Edge” is, I wonder where you find it. Maybe this is the time to discover what can be done and I don’t just mean somewhere over the rainbow, when the pandemic is over, but right now. The seeds can be planted in the here and now, even if it is perhaps difficult to find. It is found only in the muck of life and there is plenty of that around at the moment. We don’t have to wait for the end of the rainbow, for the spring or the summer we can living on the “Growing Edge” now. We have the time as we have to be at home to prepare ourselves to begin planting those seeds, nurturing them, and help them grow. To quote Margaret Atwood “In the spring, at the end of the day, you shall smell like dirt.”. I suspect that if we live on the “Growing Edge”, even in the midst of winter we can live as though it were the spring or summer time. It will not be easy, but it can be done.

Life forever invites us to grow into new challenges, new adventures, new opportunities to learn and to serve. Maybe this is the time to look within ourselves and our world. Maybe we need to begin to live on the growing edge. If we do, we might find that we can help carry ourselves and one another through this difficult winter and as we do so bring new life to fruition.

Yes, we are living with deep restrictions and my word we need to be, for the good of all. That said it does not mean that we must completely hibernate, to stop living. We cannot live for that day, somewhere over the rainbow, after the pandemic, for that is not living and we don’t know when that magical day might come.

So instead let us live on the “Growing Edge”, for this is life. All around us life is dying and life is being born. So, let us live and look to the “Growing Edge”, for this is life and life goes on.