The Life of an Edgewalker

Introvert or extrovert?

Joiner or loner?

Shy or outgoing?

Social or recluse?

Insider or outsider?

Involved or isolated?

For or against?

Left or right?

Up or down?

Oh, these labels and descriptors.

“What do you do,” they ask. “It’s hard to figure out how you’ve made your living.”

If I listed “edewalker” on my LinkedIn profile, people might be confused. Prophet would surely scare them away because few know that the original meaning of prophet is “messenger.” Translator might be better, though I speak only English.

Instead, I default to telling people I’m a corporate marketing strategist or organizational change specialist or creative strategist, or executive communications advisor. No wonder they’re confused.

If I were honest, I would simply say I’m an edgewalker.

Edgewalkers work on the edge of any group. Inside enough to be trusted, but never part of the tribe.

Edgewaters serve as scouts, firestarters, forecasters, and canaries in the coal mine.

We travel quietly, listen to people’s stories and ask questions. We read unusual things that on the surface have no direct value to the insiders. We walk long and bizarre routes and puzzle out unusual data and observations. We value messages from modern art, music, graffiti, and precognitive hunches.

We look for patterns and trust the energy.

A priest told me that what I do is like a prophet. We deliver messages of trends, trouble, slow erosion, changing beliefs, and unrealized opportunities. We shed light on faulty assumptions and flawed beliefs.

We deliver our messages with kindness and love for the insiders. We want them to thrive, live peacefully, and not be harmed or surprised in ways that bring despair, layoffs, and anger.

We rarely pronounce but rather posit. We are comfortable with ambiguity and uncertainty. We are not comfortable with how people resist new ideas.

In our lonely pursuit of possibilities and change, we often want to scream, “Look, look! Wake up! The context has all changed. You’re liable to make bad decisions on outdated assumptions and beliefs. Complacency and conformity are more dangerous than you realize.”

It’s lonely being an edgewalker. We’re not insiders or outsiders. We are often alone in seeing the bigger picture, a picture where everything is connected and there are no easy black-or-white decisions.

The real joy of being an edgewalker is freedom and creativity. Franciscan priest Richard Rohr has written that when you live on the edge of any group, “you are free to hear its core message in very new and creative ways.”

That freedom brings a transcendent energy. Seeing is enough.

I am an edgewalker.

Previous
Previous

Get Old, Go Bold

Next
Next

Keeping Up with the Wildcats