KEITH TALKS ABOUT HIS BAGGAGE
The baggage thing is a quasi-interesting story, dude. On the flight from San Francisco I came to the simple conclusion that all I needed was a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. Here was my logic: to the old monks, clothes were cast off rags and even when they fell to pieces they’d find a use for them, the fabric recycled into mops or whatever. Sort of how I felt with Sky, like an old mop needed to clean up a mess. Anyway I didn’t need to lug around baggage. My mind sometimes plays tricks on me. I don’t know why I thought I needed baggage. On the way to Chicago I heard in my mind the voice of my yogi in Los Angeles, my sweaty yoga master. He had a lot of mantras, certain sayings he’d repeat. The mind is a powerful tool, but a terrible master. You are not your body, you are not your mind, Keith, you are something supreme, you are something divine. I meditated on all of this during the flight. And I think I found the center of my lotus regarding my obsessions and anxieties over Sky. At least I was able to relax. The first thing I did when the plane landed in Chicago was ask for directions. I never claimed my baggage. When I no longer had baggage I felt freer. Duh! So simple. Why complicate your life with more then what’s necessary for the moment? In the midst of an anxious mind I forget to live in the moment. I also had this purple-book I’d brought to give to Sky. It’s called Be Here Now and it helped me remember the Keith I am. I would’ve shown the book to Teflon but I forgot it on the plane. Teflon would’ve dug the book. As for Sky, she didn’t need the book. She needed a friend.