yesterday after sri louise's workshop i was walking down the hallway to leave. the workshop was at the home studio of betty roi, which she calls the maison du healing. there was tea after practice. i had said my goodbyes to to the yogis circled on the floor for tea in the tangerine livingroom, and i walked down the woodfloored hallway toward the door.
as i walked toward the door, it swung open. i startled, and then grinned, turning to look behind me for the person pulling the crank, thinking there must be an edwardian door crank like at my house. but there was no one there, and no crank on the walls. before me, the door simply stood open. there was no particular wind. i walked through the doorway and stood on the sidewalk, shaking with wonder and delight.
it was the birthday of my friend steve who chose to leave his body this summer. and i was standing on the sidewalk, shaking with wonder and delight. it was twilight: the sun had set but there was still light in the sky. i darted across the street mid-block, quickly and carefully, and from the farthest corner heard someone singing, raucously, happy birthday.
and i got in my bike, and i rode toward home in the twilight, shaking with wonder, shaking with delight, shaking with grief and joy.