Standing at the Edge Without Falling Off: What Joan Halifax Taught Me About Walking the Line of Love and Leadership

"The edge isn’t where we lose ourselves — it’s where we remember what matters most. When we meet it with love, the edge becomes a threshold, not a threat." - Mary Coughlin

There’s a thin line between falling apart and falling open. Between being broken by the world and broken open to it. Joan Halifax calls that space the edge — and in her book Standing at the Edge, she explores what it means to live, lead, and serve from that precarious but essential place.

As I reflect on my own journey — through grief, advocacy, trauma-informed care, and all the messy beauty of showing up — I recognize that edge all too well.

I’ve stood there.

Sometimes trembling.
Sometimes defiant.
Sometimes exhausted.
And sometimes… quietly transformed.

The Edge Isn’t the Problem — Our Relationship to It Is

In Standing at the Edge, Halifax names five “edge states” that, at their best, can fuel powerful acts of compassion, justice, and presence. But when distorted or unexamined, they can drag us into burnout, despair, and disconnection.

Those five states are:

• Altruism

• Empathy

• Integrity

• Respect

• Engagement

If you’re a clinician, a leader, a parent, an advocate — you’ve likely lived inside each of these. And if you’re anything like me, you’ve also felt the weight of their shadows.

When empathy becomes empathic distress.
When altruism becomes martyrdom.
When integrity calcifies into rigidity.
When engagement burns into depletion.

Halifax’s brilliance lies in the way she invites us not to avoid these states, but to become more conscious of how we’re relating to them.

Trauma-Informed Work Is Edge Work

In the NICU, at the bedside, in systems that are stretched thin and hearts that are stretched even thinner — edge work is everywhere.

Trauma-informed developmental care is not just a clinical framework. It’s a radical reorientation to how we hold suffering and healing — our own and others’. It calls us to show up not with control, but with courage. Not just with tools, but with tenderness.

It asks us to walk into the storm and stay connected to our humanity. To meet pain without becoming it. To serve from love — not from the illusion that we can fix or save.

In that way, Halifax’s lens mirrors and deepens the work we do through TIP and the B.U.F.F.E.R. framework. Whether we’re supporting babies, families, clinicians, or ourselves, the question isn’t “How do we avoid the edge?” but “How do we stand there with grace — and not fall off?”

Reframing the Fall: What If the Edge Is Also the Invitation?

There’s a moment in Standing at the Edge where Halifax writes:

“Edge states are the places where we can become transfixed and frozen—or transformed.”

This has stayed with me.

In moments of grief, advocacy fatigue, or watching the world spin too fast on its axis, I’ve felt the danger of being transfixed — paralyzed by outrage or heartbreak. But what I’m rediscovering lately — especially in the wake of loss and reflection — is the quiet transformation that happens when I simply stand still at that edge.

When I stop trying to fix, force, or flee — and instead just feel.

And from there… choose love again.

Standing Together, Not Alone

In trauma-informed developmental care, we don’t just buffer the infant. We buffer the whole ecosystem. We say: no one should stand at the edge alone.

Whether you’re a healthcare worker, a leader, a parent, or simply a human trying to stay awake in a world that often wants us numb — this work is for you.

Standing at the edge is not a flaw. It’s a sign that you care. That you’re alive. That you’re reaching toward something better.

Let’s just make sure we’re doing it together — with compassion, with clarity, and with the unwavering reminder that love is the ground beneath our feet, even at the edge.

Reflection Prompt:
Where are you standing right now? What’s your current “edge” — and how might you soften your stance without stepping back?

Call to Action:
If this resonates with you, I invite you to join me in the next round of the TIP 2.0 program — or simply subscribe and follow along as we continue weaving trauma-informed care with leadership, advocacy, and presence. Let’s walk the edge, together.

With hugs and hope,

Mary