Yesterday words were said. An email was written and an edge was defined. It will take a while to cross over the new boundary, but after yesterday it is firm and real.

The first time in a body of water can feel amazing. Exhilaration as the flow of the water runs over and around your body. If you have the ability to pay attention to the experience, you can be alerted to sensations and areas that you may have forgotten.

You can float. You can thrash around. You can flip and dive. You can propel yourself forward, or rest and observe what is around you. Yet in all of this, you are likely not alert to any edge – even if one were in view.

With the passing of time, you slowly start to become alert to edges. As you become aware, you are constantly assessing, defining and determining. Is this an edge that is firm? Can you cross it? Do you need to cross it? How does it’s existence define you?

Not every edge has to be engaged. Edges can exist and provide structure and improve your experience. Edges are necessary.

But sometimes you find an edge that is rough. As you get closer to it, the water eddies and the flow becomes rough. The edge adds chaos that becomes destructive. Depending on how you react, sometimes the edge can be worn down – often requiring vigorous activity.

Every occasionally, you encounter an edge that becomes a problem. You may avoid it. You may actively engage with it. You may adapt to the edge because that’s the only choice available to you.

Still the existence of the edge remains a problem. Time doesn’t bring peace. The presence of the edge grows and the bliss of being in that water no longer remains. No longer a wide expanse of water, you’ve reached the water’s edge.

And when the time is right, you have to get up, crossing the water’s edge and leave.