The Edge

​ere are certain moments when something inside me shifts.

I cannot force these moments. They come quietly — in certain places or with certain thoughts — and suddenly I find myself at the very edge of what my mind can hold. It feels like standing just on the fringe of seeing something much larger, something just beyond my reach.

This feeling reminds me of Michael Harner’s experience in his book The Way of the Shaman. During an ayahuasca ceremony, he was shown visions that he was told were reserved for the dead and the dying. My own experiences are much gentler and sober, but I understand the feeling of touching a boundary most people never approach.

These experiences eventually brought me to one of the most consistent feelings I have — a quiet presence in the woods.