We live in a era when, to quote Howard Thurman, the “times are out of joint and have lost their reason” while “worlds crash and dreams whiten into ash.” Without turning away from all the dying and grieving - which, rightly held, can redouble our commitment to life - we must learn to “Look well to the growing edge!” and around the world, it’s easy for some of us to think apocalypse 24/7 and fall prey to the anger and paralysis that comes with it. We can’t live lives of meaning and purpose if we succumb to the horrors of “apocalypse now” or fly off into the Aquarian fantasy of a day when “peace will guide the planets and love will steer the stars.” To see life steadily and see it whole, we must find ways to hold the paradox of life-in-death and death-in-life. It might not be a baby en route to being born it might be a vision, an opportunity to learn or serve, or a small nudge towards who-knows-what. It might not be a friend who dies it might be a hope, or a work, or a relationship. That afternoon, we talked about the way death and life, grief and joy, dance nonstop with each other around the world, day and night. Later that morning, one of Parker’s good friends sent a video clip of the ultrasound she’d had that day, wanting to share the pure joy she and her husband felt about the new life that’s growing in her. Carrie had kept vigil at her bedside all night, singing and reading poetry as this good soul departed after years of living bravely and well with cancer. Then came an April 2018 day when a dear friend of Carrie’s died in the early morning hours.

Look well to the growing edge!ĭuring a decade of friendship and collaboration in words and music, the two of us have often talked about the endless dance of darkness and light that challenges and enriches everyone’s life. The birth of a child - life’s most dramatic answer to death - this is the growing edge incarnate. This is the basis of hope in moments of despair, the incentive to carry on when times are out of joint and men have lost their reason, the source of confidence when worlds crash and dreams whiten into ash.

Such is the growing edge! It is the extra breath from the exhausted lung, the one more thing to try when all else has failed, the upward reach of life when weariness closes in upon all endeavor. The fruit ripens on the tree, the roots are silently at work in the darkness of the earth against a time when there shall be new lives, fresh blossoms, green fruit. All around us worlds are dying and new worlds are being born all around us life is dying and life is being born.

The growing edge howard thurman