The Magic of Being On The Edge
Humans are a bundle of contradictions. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say that we have a multiplicity of motivations and behaviors that are seemingly at odds. We are good and evil. Reasoned and superstitious. Selfish and community minded.
A small experiment from my studio
Another paradoxical duality is the very human drive to explore along with an equally strong tendency to cling to what is familiar.
As toddlers we squirmed out of our parents’ laps and teetered into the unknown with an adventurous spirit tempered by frequent glances back to safe harbor. We were both attracted and repelled by the strange – following our inquisitive minds only to scurry back to familiar safety when things became too scary or confusing.
As adults, we might to think of ourselves as less tethered, but we are still buffeted by the opposing forces of exploration and familiarity. We want to go to that party where we might meet new people but we also want to cozy up on the couch with the people we already know. We want challenge at work but we balk at change. We want to try something new but we don’t want to risk feeling like an idiot.
The tension that can come from these conflicting drives has permanent residence in my art studio. I want to explore different directions and techniques but I also want to bring some pieces to completion by staying in my comfort zone. If I spend too much time in exploration mode, I fail to capitalize on what I’ve learned and end up with no finished artworks. If I focus only on what I know in order to create a body of work, I quickly get bored.
Would life be better if we could remove this tension? Would we be happier if we could follow our drive for the new and exciting without looking back? Or if we were like sloths in their trees – satisfied with hanging out in familiar territory and freed from the need to overly exert ourselves?
If we are to be our best selves, the answer must be no. The push and pull between exploration and familiarity is not a glitch in the system – it is a feature. Living on this edge is what allows us both to survive and to be the curious, creative, innovative species that we are.
The benefits of being on edge
Competing motivations might create some cognitive tension, but they are what keep us balanced and allow us to thrive. Just like hunger pulls us toward food and fatigue pulls us toward sleep, our thirst for knowledge pulls us toward information and exploration.
We are a species that depends on information and knowledge for survival. Because of that, the desire to explore is baked into our DNA. We solve puzzles for the pure joy of it. We take unnecessary risks for the chance to jump into the unknown. We embrace challenge because it feels good. We read and take classes and go down any number of information rabbit holes for no other reward than to learn something new.
On the other hand, the unknown can be dangerous. Our paleolithic ancestors faced predators, poisonous plants, and other perils of straying too far from home. The modern world is no less full of dangers, although these may be less of the predator type and more of the being in over your head type. To help protect us, we have evolved a bias toward the familiar. We find comfort in the physical and mental spaces that we know and understand. The places where we are not at risk of being confused and vulnerable.
The pull of exploration keeps us learning and discovering. The pull of familiarity keeps us safe.
And the edge between the two is where magic can happen.
The edge is its own reward
The edge of the known and unknown is where creativity flourishes and discoveries are made. It is a cognitive liminal space – a transitional area where the richness of the unfamiliar interacting with the familiar provides fertile ground for growth and innovation.
Of course, the edge between exploration and familiarity doesn’t really exist as a place. It’s a state of mind. And because we are often at our best in this state of mind, we have evolved to find pleasure in it.
An extreme example of this is the flow state – that immersive state of deep and prolonged absorption where we are operating at the edge of what we know while solving a problem or creating something new. Being in a flow state is rewarding, satisfying, energizing, exhilarating. The fact that it can also be immensely productive is almost beside the point.
The intense and sustained nature of true flow can be hard to achieve, but there are many less dramatic ways to experience life on the edge. It’s the state of mind we feel when we know enough that we’re not lost or confused but where there is still some uncertainty or mystery. I feel it when I have a juicy problem to solve. I feel it when I am writing a blog post and playing with ideas but am not exactly sure where it’s all headed. I feel it in my art studio when I am working towards something new and am on the cusp of figuring it out.
Photo: Anne Kearney
Putting ourselves on the edge
There are times when we simply crave the familiar and that’s just fine. But spending too much time in our comfort zone can not only start to feel boring but it translates to missed opportunities for enriching ourselves. Sometimes we need a little help putting ourselves on the edge.
What can we do to encourage that pleasurable state of mind between exploration and familiarity that is so conducive to creativity and discovery? We can push ourselves toward the unknown by cultivating a curiosity mindset and working to become more comfortable with uncertainty and the unfamiliar. We can keep from losing ourselves in uncharted territory by organizing our time so that we strike a balance between exploratory learning and the structured routines that allow us to leverage what we already know to get things done.
In my art practice, for example, I schedule in lots of time for play and free exploration but I also try to spend time focusing on working with what I’ve learned. I struggle to get the balance right and often get lost in exploration at the expense of finished pieces. But when it all comes together and I hit a stride of discovery within a frame of competence, it feels like magic.
When I decide that I need additional information to up-level my skills, I seek classes that are sensitive to the dual desires for understanding and exploration. I look for a mix of “how-to” and artistic freedom – something that is structured enough to guide me but not so prescribed that it is boring or keeps me from making my own discoveries.
Finally, I make use of small experiments. These are different from pure exploration in that I have an explicit intention of solving a problem. How can I get my art materials to do what I want? What’s the best way to present my work? What art installation could I design that both communicates an idea and engages the viewer? I start with what I know. I imagine what might work. I explore the idea by trying it out on a small scale.
How about you? What do you like to explore? When do you seek the familiar?
How do you keep yourself on edge, in the best sense of the word?