Edges wake us up. And, it¹s in these moments of heightened awareness, along the edges of things that we most often glimpse the transcendent beauty of the natural world. It¹s where we experience moments of insight, epiphanies, and revelations. Sunrise, sunset, shifting gears, changing jobs, changing locations, new relationships, the turn of seasons, even a changing traffic light can remind us that life is at its essence about movement and change--from one thing, one place, or one state of being to something new.

To stay present and invested in the joy of being alive, we need to belly-up to the edge of things once in a while, to go where the wild things are, to stretch our boundaries, to sail in uncharted territory, both inside and out. Why? Because it makes us more attuned to the pulse of creative juices coursing right below the surface of the mundane. Edges show us that life is unpredictable, and that world (us included) is really made of pretty special and flexible stuff. Edges remind us that life, at its core, is pure wonder and adventure.

So, how do we use this knowledge of edges in our daily lives? And what does it have to do with art? We can use edges by "noticing they¹re there." We can be aware that within each moment of each day there is a transition occurring right in front of us. Something is born, something dies, something stays the same. Every moment contains transition, every moment has an "edge." By focusing our attention on the potential for a glimpse of the wonder, we pass on the temptation to get bogged down by any negativity or fear.

Here¹s a personal example--when my father died late in 2000, I was fortunate to be by his side when he passed. I came face to face with one of the most emotional edges any of us face. Possibly because of my photographic training and possibly because it was my first nose-to-nose encounter with human death, I was able to stay objective and instead of experiencing shock and loss, I found the moment filled with wonder, peace and something I can only describe as grace. By noticing the process carefully, remaining present without reacting, I was given a glimpse of the beauty of the passing of his soul from his body. It was a gift. Oddly, I feel closer to my dad now in many ways now that he is de-localized. And I¹m not afraid of my own death now, whenever I come up against that edge.

This may be a dramatic example, but I use it to make a point. Edges offer us gifts. Simply looking closely at the movement of things we empower ourselves with the choice of wonder or wondering what happened. Lift up the edge of the ordinary and you¹ll find the unusual, the distinctive. Beauty reveals itself through differences. Creation and creative energy shines a clear light under the thin skin of change.

Art and artists go usually for the juggler vein of edges. They know intimately the importance of going to the edge to taste the juice of creative energy. Some come back with fantastic vistas and colorful tales of what they experience, others show us the heart moving beauty in the ordinary everyday details. Uncharted territory can be found right outside your door or at your desk. You find it not by looking farther and wider, but by looking deeper. The universe in a blade of grass, the cosmos in the branches of an oak tree. You can go there through the practice of noticing.

The holidays are filled with edges. It¹s a traditional time for gifts of all sorts. Keep your eyes open and enjoy the results.