Flight

This morning, in Sag Harbor, after an hour and a half of amazing yoga, Rodney Yee talked about a famous physicist who, while he was still alive, knew things that no one else could. This physicist could tell you the exact trajectory of a rocket fired into space, which I guess is not something that other scientists can do with much accuracy. Anyway, someone once asked this guy how he did it, and he said, something like, “I only think about things that I can understand; I don’t fill my head with useless things I can’t.” Then Rodney said that we needed to let go of the things that were needlessly taking up space in our minds—the things we’d never be able to do anything about—in order to make room for what’s amazing.

On the ferry ride home, I sunk down in the driver’s seat of my car, and watched the waves. They reminded me of another time, when I was innocent. This morning, the sky was blue, and a flock of black seabirds—cormorants, I think—owned the air. I was a witness to their magnificent flight. For a moment, I knew that I was lucky.

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