Poker Man and the Robes
The passenger next to me on American Airlines was a professional poker player. From what I gather, he does this for a living. He showed me from his iPhone the recent poker champ, a Vietnamese American, who championed a tournament “just five minutes ago, as we speak,” winning for himself 8 million dollars.
A nice chunk indeed.
My friend next to me wasn’t just keen on poker—which is argued by some as a game of skill over a game of chance—he asked me if he could take a photo of my robes. I said, “Sure! Go ahead!”
At that instance I was distracted, for across the aisle there was a collapse of a piece of luggage. I turned my head and it just so happens my friend was only interested in the robes. My head was turned and didn’t make it into the pic.
“My girlfriend has clothes of the same colour,” he said. The stitch would be something different, I’m sure.
Anyway, with these same robes on, I was whisked away to Jacksonville, in Florida, once we landed. There, I was asked to speak to a group of sincere seekers about “Tales From Trails,” and what it means to get around on foot and receive reactions from passersby who don’t see spiritual attire very often. I inserted the philosophy of the “Bhagavad-gita” and told of our guru’s remarkable achievements. Now, the members of the group are not robe-wearing kind of people. Rather, this gathering of youth demonstrated their individuality as free spirits. At the same time, the tales, philosophy and chanting resonated like anything. I felt I was in a loft speaking to youths much like in the early days in Manhattan, when counter-culture radicals stepped into an ancient world of sadhus and monks who were talking about and living simple lives.
May the Source be with you!