I enjoy that events are so fluid within the
shape of our lives. One minute, they are the center, consuming all but the
edges, leaving little room for anything else. Eventually, they move to the
margins, finding a spot and hugging the edge. The important becomes peripheral
and a new tenant occupies the center.
I think back to college when going out to bars
and getting drunk with friends on a Saturday night consumed my center, and now
it sits in the margin, occasionally making an appearance. I think back to
graduate school when grades consumed my center, and now that GPA is barely
present within the margins, clinging to its last breaths. The power of their
influence vanishes; sure, it nudges and it reasserts itself, but typically the
influence stays within the parameters of the edge, unless we choose otherwise.
I’ve observed that often, without even the
slightest hint of a challenge, we allow what belongs in the edge to influence
the center, providing prime real estate to an undeserving tenant. It begs me
wonder, who are we on the edges of
ourselves that we allow to define the whole? How often do we betray our whole
with the bladed sides of an edge?
I’m not sure if we betray ourselves often, but I’ve
done it to myself and I have seen others do it to themselves too many times to
consider it atypical.
The thing is, that edge sneaks up on you and it
paints with a broad, bold stroke that covers all inconsistencies and convinces you
of its validity. What should be marginal becomes dominant. When this occurs-
when the edge cuts into the center and attempts to overthrow the rightful owner-
suddenly there you are, being only one thing, only one-dimensional, having only
one edge, one definition. This edge convinces us. We are only the GPA; we are
only the drinking college student; we are only the Type A personality; we are
only the affair; we are only the lie we told; we are only the funny girl; we
are only the big nose that we hate; we are only the mistake we made.
It can be so difficult to see or be anything
else because all you have is that single
edge, and while it will sever anything which threatens its own existence,
it will never sever itself. And so we struggle. We redistrict ourselves. We
re-draw the parameters of our centers. We rebuild; we restructure; we re-evaluate;
we redecorate. We figure out how to cut ourselves loose. We do one of the most
difficult and scary tasks we will do as a human being- we take control of what
seems uncontrollable. To take what you are convinced is your center, your core,
the definition of yourself, and to challenge it…that is no small feat. I’ve
challenged the cutting, defined edges of my center on more than one occasion.
I’ve challenged myself through time, reflection, distance, discussion,
acceptance, forgiveness, and a plethora of other tools. Sometimes, I succeed;
my center cracks and a new occupant seeps into the space. Sometimes, I just
barely dent the center’s periphery, and the challenge continues. Either way, I
always come to the same conclusion- the fluidity between the center and the
edge is a great asset and a sly enemy, as is with so many pairings in our
lives. To understand this relationship is the first step to appreciating the balance between the two. 