Today is Ours

4:30 am. Wake up to the sound of my alarm clock buzzing,
I cringe; raindrops falling outside. All I can think about is how desperately I want to close my eyes, and slip back into the comfort of a deep sleep.
I am a slave to my tiredness, and the thought of a few more hours of dreaming sounds very enticing.
It is at this moment that the fate of my day rests.,

I turn off the alarm, and climb out of bed. standing alone in the darkness, my aching eyes still closed, the world is black and silent - the only sound are my heavy breathes.
Ahead of me, lies 50 miles of walking; an exploration into the heart and soul of American humanity.
"What if....".
What if... today is the day that we wake up hungry..
what if today is the day we let go of our excuses and do what we have always wanted..
what if today is the day we walk,
or speak,
or unbashedly exist - openly, loudly, purely.
What if, we engage pain and pleasure and fear and challenge, and motion head on and just see what happens.

Today we asked ourselves: What if. The answer to that question always amazes me.





Andrew Tipton

Including You and Me

Say It Out Loud

It is comfortable to be quite.
Most times, I watch silence happening around me. Sometimes from me.
The word in the chamber - shot never fired.
Blame it on inhibitions. Blame it on the convenience of remaining anonymously detached... but those words go unsaid, those ambitious beautiful strokes of our mouths.. slip from the pages of our story.
Sometimes I watch us move our lips.. so close to saying what we want, to doing what we want. But, its all the same thing, all connected, the saying and the becoming, the saying, and the experience that comes with a moment's courage - this world was "spoken" into existence after all.
Call it the materialization of intention.. but things do happen when we speak honestly, viciously, unrepentantly. Out, loudly.
That instant, when speaking or moving feels like too much of an effort.. those are the moments that shape our days.



(Andrew Tipton)

Prayers for The Morning

On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.

And when your eyes
freeze behind
the gray window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colors,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
in the curach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come a cross the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.

Anam Cara

Afternoons with Horses

Sometimes the world changes colors on me.
It goes from a shade of gray.. to a deep, wet blue - the sort of color you can wade into and let yourself drift.
My fingers wander gently through the manes of painted horses .. their sweat on my palms; large soft eyes and noses. We exist in a place that grows stranger and more remarkable the longer you stare.
Unappologetic; seductive in every sense of the word. I can't help but smile at the absurdity of beautiful.





(Andrew Tipton)

The Best 30 Minutes of Your Life

Soft lights flickering through the tree tops.. the lulling sound of an acoustic guitar.. my canteen filled with dark red wine.. sweet on my lips, all of it - the star filled night, the air, the music, the greatest of luxuries: being here now.
Sitting next to me on a stranger's blanket, Josh lights up an Indian Spirit and takes a deep breathe.. I watch the smoke swirl into the shape of an Egyptian dragon, and I think to myself that humans are beautiful, crazy creatures.
Josh sits up and leans into my ear..
"What if these were the last 30 minutes of our lives?".
I smile. Josh asks good questions.

"... the world ends in 30 minutes... what do we do?"

"I think if we knew that these 30 minutes were our last.. they would be the best 30 minutes of our lives."

I take a long drink of wine, and then pass the canteen to Josh.
We both look at each other and break into a smile/laugh/shoulder hug.

Imagine what would matter to you.. if you only had 30 minutes of life left..? Imagine what you would be able to say, or do with that amount of time.
It is an interesting amount.. because it is just long enough to provoke panic.. yet, it isn't enough time to take decisive action.
In 30 minutes, you can't really go anywhere, you can't redeem yourself to anyone, you can't do the things that you never took a chance on...
With 30 minutes.. you are left with one reasonable option:
Enjoy yourself as you are, where you are. Could you do that?

I think we would suddenly be aware how very much it is to be alive... it would flood over us like a Hokusai wave. Our hearts would race, our eyes would be wide and desperate and brave and marvelous.. the world would be marvelous for 30 minutes. Somehow, the knowledge that time is running out.. changes everything. Changes what matters, changes what we want, what we hate, what we love, changes what we do.
The smell of cool air, the way the trees sway in the dark of a starlit night.. the softness of grass - the energy of people, the sensation of our own heartbeats, colors like red & deep blue, the intricate beauty of touch.

I would be aware of the moment - I would be here truly, finally - and I would savor every last living breathe..
Ironic.. that our last 30 minutes would be our best... but they would.
Maybe I can start sooner.







Andrew Tipton

Free Spirits

Free Spirit,
owls in the tree tops,
feathers in our hair,
are we perfect?
is this day perfect for the taking?
dirt on our hearts and feet,
we wander into each others souls,
you are the expression of a rambling mind,
rough edged, thoughtful, gently brutal.
I have nowhere to escape to; nowhere to escape from.
Jet stream outrageous blue. Sky above my deepest breathes.
Stand here, eyes wide shut, mouth wet, Sweat.
I count the heartbeats. 85 Inside.
Sex daydreams; green green grass.
This is all I want: everything.
From life, from myself.
To remain a child, hopelessly captivated by the simplest of splendor.
waterfall baths,
blackberries stains on dark jeans,
laughter of friends,
the innocence and tremor in a single passionate kiss.
This is lust, contagious. This is a dream, contagious. This is joy, contagious.
Los Tigres sing: "I need my freedom"
Our anthem; the words that fill these dark blue veins.
This world was made for us..
For our experience.
For our lost inhibitions.
For our laughter.
These days are beautifully short lived.



Andrew Tipton