The Edge of What’s Possible

Early in my entrepreneurial journey, I came across a talk given by someone I highly respect.

In it, they equated entrepreneurship to the experience of reaching the edge of a video game’s mapped reality — the territory so far beyond the normal gameplay that nothing but blackness exists beyond it.

What’s interesting, they explained, is how each step forward toward this edge seems to reveal newfound territory.

It’s as though you think you’re about to step off a cliff, only to have your foot meet new ground that didn’t exist (or was invisible to you) moments prior.

This is an all-too-familiar feeling for me.

I often feel like I’m living at the edge of the game board, staring into the blackness of the unknown. Looking back, I know very well how I arrived here, but it’s not always clear where to travel next.

Though sure enough, the path usually tends to reveal itself with each additional step forward.

This is especially true when I’m able to quiet my mind (and its more egoic aspirations) and instead feel deeply into where I’m being guided to grow and serve.

My favorite part of farming is that it feels entirely like an act of service — to the land, to the community, to myself, and more. It’s admittedly my preferred love language (I guess it’s no wonder I often refer to this whole farming thing as a labor of love).

It’s from this orientation of service that I often receive my best ideas or get introduced to someone who unlocks entirely new opportunities for the farm.

This is the game board extending its boundary lines.

Remaining true to this process — being sincere in showing up with an attitude of service — is the hard part.

Inevitably, I find myself relapsing into wanting things to go faster or for answers to appear all at once. In those moments, I can recall making hasty decisions that weren’t fully aligned with my values (and that caused unnecessary problems down the line).

Here, the boundaries feel fixed and the game’s limits seem to keep me from easily moving forward.

The cheat code I’ve found for avoiding this trap is staying curious and being honest with myself about the intentions behind any decision or action I take. This is harder than it seems, as I’m very good at believing the things I want to be true or that confirm what I already think (as I shared last week).

But like any practice, the more comfortable I become with straddling the edge, the more easily I find myself able to work through challenges.

This makes me think about a concept in permaculture known as the Edge Effect. It’s the idea that the most biodiverse, productive, and alive places in any landscape occur where two ecological regions meet. A forest pressing up against a meadow, a river meeting the bank, a coastline brushing the open sea. These edges are messy, fluid, and unpredictable, yet they’re where life thrives the most.

I’m starting to see that same principle show up in my work. The edge between head and heart. Between profit and purpose. Between self and other. Between balance and obsession, and the comfort of the known versus the excitement of exploring what’s beyond.

It’s at these intersections where the next piece of ground tends to form beneath my feet. Where the game board extends. Where new possibilities, ideas, and connections emerge that I could never have planned.

Maybe the real magic of this whole journey is learning to live at those edges — not rushing past them, not retreating from their uncertainty, but trusting that something new is always trying to grow there.