Walking to the Edge

There is a certain stillness that reveals itself only after you have walked through your own storm.

You will become firm and controlled, without needing aggression. It is possible — but only when you understand your limits. And to understand your limits, you must first touch them.

A person standing in the middle of a vast field cannot know where the boundary lies. You have to walk toward the edge. You have to test yourself in real situations. If you always stay safely behind the line, you will never know where the line truly is.

So in the beginning, you may cross that boundary. You may act with more force, more intensity, even a hint of aggression — not to lose control, but to discover where control begins. Only after crossing the edge do you learn how to remain within it.

In singing, you do not shout to sound powerful. You explore your voice until you know exactly how much force the head voice can hold without collapsing.

In martial arts, too, you test your strength, your speed, your emotions — and through this testing, you learn how to contain them.

This is especially true for those who were never taught where the boundary lies. Some parents, teachers, and mentors show us limits early, so we do not have to wander. But even then, we refine those limits ourselves — we make them accurate to who we are now.

Buddha explored the extreme. He deprived his body, pushed himself to the outer edge of endurance, and learned that truth did not live in extremity. Only after touching that distant boundary did he discover the Middle Path — the calm, balanced way.

And so it is with all of us. To find balance, we must first walk beyond balance.