The Genuine Heart of Sadness

I decided to drive out to the East Marion last night, get up early, and take the ferry out to Shelter Island with my soy latte. I did that today. Floated on Peconic Bay at eight in the morning, the tiny ferry chugging six or so cars across, gulls overhead, waves lapping. Wow, that was like a million-dollar vacation. (I thought, “Julia would love this,” and I then I tried not to think about how she actually wouldn’t, because I’d be there. ) Then I drove across Shelter Island and got on the second ferry, to Sag Harbor, which is even tinier. You could swim the distance. It’s just peace.

Colleen and Rodney
And then I drove to Rodney Yee and Colleen Saidman’s yoga studio, and did yoga with them and it was like the old days in California, when you didn’t push through three million vinyasas, but instead pressed your pelvis up against the wall while you tried to open your chest up, in a little backbend. It was about using micro movements to get the breath moving through your body.

Of course, the strange news is that there was a woman there who was college roommates with Julia’s cousin, Liz, and she wanted to run through all of what she knew about Julia. She was so excited by the coincidence. Go figure: two ferry rides and a trip across a tiny island and there’s still someone reminding me of Julia (and her family, whom I love, too). It was Trungpa Rinpoche laughing and laughing at me, and saying, “It’s O.K. to be sad. It’s O.K. to miss Julia. Keep it up! Breathe into your genuine heart of sadness. Open your heart—more, more. You’re not nearly done.”

2 thoughts on “The Genuine Heart of Sadness”

  1. My brother got married on Shelter Island. It was magical. You live in a magical realm. I am glad that you see that. And yoga with great masters right there, a swim away. That’s abundance. So is a big broken heart.

    1. I know! Where I live is one of the most beautiful places I’ve been. And it’s not one of those beautiful places that holds a grudge against humans who live there: the land is welcoming. The other thing–the being lucky to be there and have the incredible good fortune of discovering yoga masters there–is just blowing my mind, really. I’m pinching myself. You know, Noa, that you always have a place to come out to there. It’s a good bed, in my guest room: it’s Lynn’s!

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