The Teachings of Sexy Bear

I talk about the curves of the road, the open horizon ahead - and he listens.

I explore my pleasures, my dilemmas, my bewilderment - and he listens intently.

I sing - and he listens with unbroken fascination.

I scream - and he listens without the slightest discomfort.

I am silent - and he still listens.



Staring back into the eyes of my silent travel companion; his relaxed and eager gaze seems to draw the thoughts from my lips. As my words come spilling out, I realize that I am speaking without a filter.. without the need to edit my words.
A exodus of ideas come out of my mouth, brilliant conclusions, forgotten fantasies, remarkable solutions - and the words keep pouring out like a rushing stream.
Sexy Bear, has never said a word.. he has only listened.

In our search for wisdom, we forget that the answers we are pursuing sometimes already exist inside of us. We want to be taught much of the time.. we want knowledge to come to us, instead of through us.. but perhaps the best teachers are the ones that do not try to convince us of truth... but allow us to discover it on our own.
The silent, eager listeners.. neither condemning, nor provoking - only accepting.






Andrew Tipton

January 31st

swim upside down,
past the carnivores.
into waves of black silk.
let your mind rest along her curves..
along the mysterious lines,
and the open imagination of her lips.
Cold to the touch,
merely the cradle that holds new life..
we look and we lust, and we leave..
but we seldom journey as far down as the soul.
To the why.. to the reason.
you are a storm inside of minds. Mine.
When do we ever become aware of the profoundness of ourselves?
When do we wake?
When do we see color for the first time..
see our faces and the dust on our jeans?
I have been taught to
watch genesis from a distance..
and do not roar,
do not scream,
or the world will fall to pieces -
and who desires such a thing?
Perhaps it is time for rebellious dreams.
For flames,
and for obscure
and marvelous things.




Andrew Tipton

Love Freedom & Aloneness

"..for centuries your roots have been cut, poisoned. You have been made afraid of ever being in love with yourself - which is the first step of love, and the first experience. A man who loves himself respects himself. And a man who loves and respects himself respects others, too, because he knows: 'Just as I am, so are others. Just as I enjoy love, respect, dignity, so do others.' He becomes aware that we are not different as far as the fundamentals are concerned; we are one."

- Osho

Never Saw it Coming

The future ain't what it used to be.
- Lewis J. Bates

My friend Angela's house burned to the ground a few days ago.
She is alive, safe and well. I am glad. Sometimes it takes a fire to make you see someone again.. or see yourself.
I have been thinking a lot about our times together. Our laughter, our conversations, our silence, and our creations. Lots of incredible memories.. nearly an hour has passed since I wrote that last line.. there was a lot to remember.
Today when I woke up, I lay there.. thinking about our future.
Mine. Yours. Angela's.
We live like we've already been there.. to the future.. like we know whats waiting on us. How our lives will flow.. the sort of person we'll eventually become.. the books we'll write, where we'll end up.. who we'll end up with.
Angela probably knows it better than me.
We don't have a future.. Not yet; Not a real one.
The one we think we know.. is just a daydream, based shadily on only our present condition.

We play god the best we can.. and then everything shifts.
We win the lottery.. or we die on the way to watch a sunset.
We never saw it coming.
That is our future.




Andrew Tipton

Indian Song

"..Life is just a day on the way.."

Joshua Kumrits

Sometimes it is hard to see through the weight of the moment.
What we desire, and what we hold in our hands seem at times very different. On the horizon, we distinguish the place we want to be.. the person we want to become... often though, it feels like there is such a great distance between us and that point. I've watched my own anticipation get the best of me at times.. and found myself wondering aloud, "Will I ever arrive?

My friend Josh wrote a song a few years ago.. called, "Indian Song".. it is 2 minutes long, and it is brilliant. In the last few lines, he sings softly.. "Life is just a day on the way... oh, life is just a day on the way." - The first time I heard those lyrics, they were etched solidly into my mind. They are simple, un-struggling, calm, passionate, natural, resilient, careless. They are true.

Yesterday I came across that song.. and when those lyrics swept through my ears, down into the deep caves of my soul.. the whole world melted away, like it always does. The shadows and cathedrals of my own invention disappeared - I found myself as I always have been, a simple human, on my way through an uncomplicated life.. living for awhile, and then dying.

I am grateful for Friends who share, and whose words and dreams continually point me towards the truth.. that all of this existence is marvelous.
As I walk towards my dreams, I turn my focus away from the distant horizon, and instead watch the steps below my feet.. this one.. then the next.. then the next..
One step at a time... one day on the way.



Andrew Tipton

The Possibilities are Endless

There is no reason to be false.






Andrew Tipton

Speak Like You Eat

When we put the right foods into our bodies, we're making ourselves healthier, stronger, balanced.. its almost common knowledge by now, that what we eat affects the overall potential of our physical body and well being.
I walked into a bookshop yesterday, just browsing titles.. wandering down isle after isle of books dedicated to what we put into our mouths. Nutrition books, dieting guides, cleansing, muscle building, spiritual health.. we are quite knowledgeable it seems on how to eat our way to a more fulfilled life.
But our mouths work two ways..
After browsing a few dozen books about eating.. not a one mentioned being intentional with the content that comes out of our mouths.
Perhaps we have been so concerned with monitoring our "intake", that we have neglected to explore the potential of our "release"..
After all, with every inhale, comes an exhale..

These things that we say.. the sounds that slip out between our lips.. words - they are powerful! They can change perceptions, they can bring about epiphanies, they insight fear, they dispel doubts, they create affection, they sever friendships.. A single word of encouragement or negativity can forever echo in the mind of another human - changing the course of their life. That is incredible to me.. astounding.
Are we aware of this power? Do we have the will and the awareness to use it?
Sometimes it feels like we "talk" so much.. without purpose.. like we're wielding a gun without intention. Most of the words I listen to are uttered without ever a thought given to them.. they are pointless, powerless, and quickly forgotten, like pebbles tossed into a deep raging river.

When I was younger.. we used to say a prayer before each meal, to acknowledge the food we were about to eat.. to pause a moment and recognize how it was nourishing us, blessing us. I imagine that if we paused a moment to acknowledge our words before we spoke, the things we would say might be quite different.

I want to speak like I eat.







Andrew Tipton

Storms & Silk Elephants

Jan 1st, 2011. 3:17 AM

It is new years night, I am lying on my back - naked, wrapped in wool blankets, staring upwards out of a skylight. Surrounded by the rushing serenade of thunderstorms; watching sheets of rain weaving themselves through the blackness.
The camper windows are pulled wide open, allowing cool gusts of rain to come inside.. wet drops keep landing on my face and chest.. like the mist from a waterfall against my warm skin.
Through the skylight, it is black for a few minutes.. with only the roar of the rain outside.. then I see flashes of lightning as they tear through the clouds above. I am quietly in awe. There is no sound other than the storm.
Raging.
I am feeling raindrops on my hands, and its as if the water is washing away the tiny lines on my fingertips which form my identity - I have no identity tonight.. I have no roles to fill.. I have no poems to recite.. I am becoming like the night outside, blackness - without definition.
I am watching her lips as she whispers, "I want you Andrew Tipton." - it as if a pride of lions just roared my name.

Here, I am becoming him.
Here, I am him already.
Liberty. To be nothing, or to be anything.


There are silk elephants dancing over my head..


It is good to be alive tonight.


Andrew Tipton