The Razor’s Edge

As I (Mike) was sorting some papers today, clearing my desk for our departure, I came across a lecture by Bill Taber given at Pendle Hill in 1996. Bill was one of my teachers, and perhaps he was one of yours, too. He lives today through the work of Brian Drayton and the language of the inner landscape. I was fortunate to hear Bill speak on this topic several times when he was a visiting teacher to the School of the Spirit.

The title of the Pendle Hill lecture is Vocal Ministry: The Inward Motion and the Razor’s Edge. This adventure of ours is about exploring edges. It is a way of seeing and listening; a way of being aware; a way of living with the paradoxes which allow for existence; it is the way of the mystic. In addressing the minister, Bill speaks of the edge between waiting and boldness, between being a teacher and being taught, between authority and humility. By walking these edges, the minister can be used by, what Bills calls, the Radiant Source.

There is an art in dwelling on edges, like Philippe Petit in ‘To Reach the Clouds’ who not only could walk the high-wire but also lie there, rest there, and juggle there. The edge then becomes a space and mystics through the ages have recognized these liminal spaces as where we are taught and from which we can teach.

After wading through traffic to get to our camp site following the eclipse, Marsha and I celebrated our arrival by walking the beach with the warm waves washing over our feet. The classic example of liminal space is that between high tide and low tide. Any creature has to adapt to extremes to live in this liminal space between high and low tides. It seemed apt to note that if you stand and look down at the receding waves you get dizzy, but if you look ahead and keep walking you simply enjoy the wash of water. So perhaps it is wise as we enter these last few days at home to just keep walking and not look down.