Yesterday I wrote of the body’s edge of protection. I need to spell out an exception. As I mentioned, edges are often blocked from view by fog. If one is in unfamiliar territory and blinded by fog it may feel as if the edge is an inch away in any or all directions. This doesn’t feel like an edge. It feels like a ledge and it is crippling. People fall off of ledges unless they are rescued, after all. Either way, ledges rob one of feeling in control. It’s a helpless feeling.

When at the ledge and blinded by fog, we have 3 choices, as I see it. 1) Use senses other than sight to better define what surrounds us, 2) cut through the fog, or 3) wait to be rescued.

The first 2 give us back a sense of control. The 3rd leaves us helpless and at the mercy (or apparent mercy) of others.

With pain, we can learn to feel our way toward edges until it becomes clear that we are not actually on a ledge. Or, we can lift the fog.

More on the fog in the next post.