verge (vʉrj)
the edge, brink, or margin (of something): also used figuratively the verge of the forest, on the verge of hysteria

to tend or incline (to or toward)
to be in the process of change or transition into something else; pass gradually (into) dawn verging into daylight

Thursday, May 27, 2010


One of those Verge-y things happened last week.  It was a quiet and fleeting moment with loud repercussions. It caused me to pause.  My Verge existence has become my quiet refuge, my place of safety.   Here, questions are unnecessary.  Answers are irrelevant and obscure possibility.  Uncertainty, the place I have often feared, has become very comfortable--not by my effort, but by the very Verge itself.

Life on the Verge has become the destination.  I hadn't planned on that. I admit that I want it to last awhile.  I am frequently asked where I'll go when the house sells, or what I'll do for work if I don't get un-pink-slipped.  I like the casualness of my "I don't know" response.  People get irked by that.  They want answers.  "I don't know" is my answer.

But during this particular Verge-y moment last week, the decision to a question I hadn't pondered came rolling in like thunder.  Ba-Boom! I knew something for sure.  I know something for sure.  This suddenly put one toe of mine just outside the Verge.

I'm getting a dog.  That's what I know.  I'm getting A Dog this summer.  This summer!  It's the one thing I know and knowing it feels like Bingo!  Implied in this one decision is an entire continent of destinations--and possibly the ultimate un-verging of my circumstances. I don't know details, but I can be sure that every other decision will stem from this one Dogged-determination.

Meet my friend here.  She's sweet, yes?  A girl of grace and dignity, she can also tell a good joke and is a serious goofer-offer. Though she is happily settled on her own mountain top with an adoring pack, she has persevered through her own Verges of certain uncertainty.  I hope that this Eventual Dog of mine will follow in this girl's paw prints.  Her doggedness is admirable.

With one toe dipping into the stream, I am feeling a tiny tug.  Verging on uncertainty opens doors.  Vagueness avoids them.  This door has opened a crack.  I'm stepping through. Perhaps Bingo will be her name-o.


  1. Excellent news! Can't wait to hear more!

  2. P.S. I know what you mean about the Verge becoming the destination. In my unemployed state, I roll from contract assignment to contract assignment, not making anything like what I used to (and not quite what I actually need to make ends meet), but without much angst. Things will turn out. I don't know how, or when, but that's OK. For now.

  3. Oh wonderful to be getting a dog this summer. That is like being a kid knowing you will have new sneakers and a best friend and popsicles...