Scary Beautiful

On edges, mid-lands, and the dance between them

The edge needs a container. Many assume structure and freedom are opposites. They're not.

It's been a long time since I had a massage. They're expensive, and more than that — because my body is unusually flexible, most therapists push further than is actually good for it. Not out of carelessness. Just because they can, so they think they should. I end up being the one managing the session instead of receiving it, holding the line on how far is actually too far. It takes the rest out of the whole thing.

I've been thinking about that lately, because it's basically been my whole year.

This has been the year of Rewilding Yourself — the book itself, and now the Field Guide that goes with it. It's been the best kind of hard: the work I actually wanted to be doing, at the edge of what I knew how to do. And an edge like that, left alone, will take you further than is good for you. Not because the work is careless. Just because it can.

What kept me from overextending wasn't an editor looking over my shoulder — I didn't have one of those. It was my own weekly and quarterly reviews, and deadlines I set for myself with no one enforcing them but me. That structure is what let the ideas actually flow instead of scattering in six directions at once.

I'm a natural brainstormer; left unstructured, everything feels equally urgent and my plate quickly becomes too full. The regular reviews held the structure of when to stop.

The book launched this week; the guide is out next. The garden out back is about done producing for the year, settling in for its own quiet pause. This is the time to come in off the edge for a bit. Appreciate the season that is ending before reaching for the next one.

I know growth happens at the edges, not in the comfortable mid-lands. But you don't live at the edge. You visit it, and then you come back to rest, reset, and get ready to go again. We need both. This year gracefully reminded me that I love both – the excitement of the edge and the comfort of the mid-lands.

There's a chorus from a song I wrote during Covid, back in 2021. It became a painting a few years later. It's still the truest thing I know about what I actually want:

I want a life that takes me to the edge, of my comfort zone,
then nudges me beyond, into the great unknown.
I want a life where scary beautiful, is possible and true —
a life where I can be myself with you.

If you’d like to follow along week to week, I send out a post every Sunday on Substack. Join me there.

Warmly,

Suzanne