ago and a moment from now.
The verge, this very moment, is not just where your mind and body go through the motions of life; it’s also where you feel awake and fully alive.
The verge is not only where nature thrives; it’s also where you thrive.
The verge is where you wake up, show up, and shine.
On the Verge is based on my own direct experience of being awake and fully alive and on my curiosity about human potential and what it means to thrive. Although I stand on the shoulders of many teachers, the insights I share with you flow from my own investigation and discoveries. My intent for this book was not to try to rehash the words of great masters of philosophy, science, and religion. So you won’t find quotations of great sages or references to scientific studies.
I am offering a raw and unfiltered expression of what I have experienced in my own practices and in teaching thousands of people. I attempt to express as simply as possible how it feels to break free of the confines of my own cluttered, often chaotic mind and be conscious in a human body in a busy world. I humbly offer you my experience of what it feels like to wake up, show up, and shine.
On the Verge emerged from my thirty-five years of teaching fitness and yoga and my lifelong dedication to coaching thousands of people to experience life fully — and to do so over and over again. By taking this journey with me, I hope you’ll learn to do the same — to adopt a few practices and strategies that will help you show up in this moment and embrace life fully.
On the Verge isn’t about changing your body, love life, or finances. In the pages ahead, I’m not going to tell you what to eat, how to exercise, or how to pray. I won’t ask you to sit still for hours at a time, nor will I tell you what you need to improve. There’s enough advice out there and, in my opinion, the more you read about what you should be doing, the less likely you are to actually commit to anything.
Living on the verge is not about doing more, but about being more. It isn’t about achieving more; it’s about experiencing more. It’s not about being someone different, as there’s no “better version of you” on the horizon. Everything you’re searching for is available to you in this moment. Everything you need is right here on the verge.
You’ll discover that when you show up in this moment — when you are 100 percent engaged right here and right now — you arrive in a space where you are fully aware. In this space, beyond your busy mind, you glimpse your naturally occurring state of being awake and fully alive. In your natural state your mind is clear, your body bright, and your heart open. On the verge, in your natural state, you show up and shine.
In the pages ahead you’ll learn practices and strategies to help you shift your perspective beyond your busy mind, glimpse your natural state, and live on the verge. But don’t assume you’ll wake up and show up just by reading this book. Don’t just hope that somehow you’ll be ready to shine when you need to shine most — during the big board meeting or the last play of the game. That kind of thinking is risky business. Don’t hope you’ll miraculously feel awake and fully alive when you want to or need to most. Instead, commit to taking this journey with me and discover through practice what it feels like to show up and live on the verge over and over again.
You are already awake and fully alive. You are already on the verge. You just may not believe it — yet. I want to help you believe in your extraordinary human potential to show up and shine in even the most ordinary moments of your everyday life. I want to help you show up and shine as I did on the track thirty years ago, and to do so not by accident or once in a while, but on purpose and all the time. So buckle your seat belts and get ready to break your own records and achieve your own personal best. Let’s get started.
I was born Carolyn Marie Ferrara, the only daughter sandwiched between two sons in an Italian American family from the Coney Island section of Brooklyn. As a fiercely independent child, I didn’t take orders well, resisted advice, and insisted on doing everything myself. My three favorite words were “Let me do.” No one could tell me what to do or show me how to do it. I needed to do it myself, thank you very much. My need for autonomy carried through my teenage years, when day in and day out I insisted on being left alone to figure things out for myself.
This “Let me do” attitude worked both for me and against me. I developed some useful skills, such as not believing everything I read, standing up to peer pressure, and possessing a readiness to try most things at least once (as long as it doesn’t involve jumping out of planes).
In early adulthood I became impatient and impulsive, making hasty decisions without consulting the experts, a.k.a. my parents, including a last-minute transfer in my sophomore year of college, quitting a sweet position at a New York investment bank, and dropping out of a fast-track MBA program at New York University. I married in my twenties, changed my name to Cara in my thirties, and got a tattoo in my forties. I’ve taught everything from step aerobics to hip-hop dance, performed on Rollerblades around the world, and started a handful of businesses, including selling hair bows in Greenwich Village, ice-cream cones in New Hampshire, and figure-skating apparel in Nova Scotia.
So here I am, Cara, the “Let me do” risk taker, who must see, hear, taste, smell, and touch everything before I accept it as the real deal. I don’t like gimmicks and steer clear of big promises. Don’t try to BS me, because I’ll smell it a mile away. Before I buy, I need to touch. Before I sell, I need to trust.
Being a “Let me do” kind of girl means I need to experience everything myself. When I hug my daughters, I want to feel the hug. When I’m chopping garlic for fresh tomato sauce, I want to smell the garlic.
The reason I have to thoroughly see, hear, taste, smell, and touch everything is quite simple. When I’m fully engaged in whatever I’m doing, I feel more awake. When I directly experience what is happening, I feel fully alive — and, by the way, so do you.
Life Is Not a Spectator Sport
You experience life in different ways. Some experiences are direct, some are secondhand, and some are muted. A direct experience is your firsthand knowledge of a sensation, state, or feeling; it’s exactly what you’re feeling in any given moment through your five senses. Secondhand experiences are someone else’s interpretation of an event or experience. A muted experience occurs when you’re mentally distracted or emotionally drained; your experience of life is muddled because it’s mediated by your busy mind.
Let’s take a closer look at how you may be experiencing life.
Secondhand Experience
A secondhand experience is a description of a sensation, state, or feeling as told, written, or demonstrated by others. It’s their interpretation of what’s happening. Your mother tells you about the sunset she watched or your friend says the burgers at Sally’s Diner are the best she’s ever eaten.
Take eating an orange. If your friend Bob tells you about the orange he ate, it’s not your firsthand experience — it’s secondhand. In other words, Bob’s explanation describes his firsthand experience; it won’t help you taste the orange.
When I tell people about how invigorated I feel after a yoga class, they often smile and nod their heads. They can listen to me all day long, but they’ll never, ever know what it’s like to practice yoga until they step onto a mat and try it for themselves. My experience won’t take them there — ever. It will always be secondhand, that is, until they show up for class.
To