Imaginary friends from far away places

I woke up this morning in the bed of a person I just met yesterday.
The pillows were soft, and the fleece sheets felt perfect tangled around my body.
I rolled over and opened my eyes, savoring the earliest bits of morning sunlight trickling in through wooden blinds.
I stretched like a tiger, and then let myself sink back into the deep, delicious softness.
its rare that I get to spend the night in an extremely comfortable place - I wasn't about to rush myself.
I let out a very content sigh, and tried to slip back into my dreams un-noticed.


Its difficult to comprehend someone letting your into their home after "just" meeting you. Much less, feeding you, caring for you, and treating you with all measures of hospitality.
And yet this keeps happening.

This morning was the first time I have thought about the craziness of these situations. Often, I find myself placed in some amazing house, or dining with complete strangers at their own dinner table. Elaborate meals, soft beds, hot baths - within moments of meeting.

Of course I have a "connection" to these awesome individuals - there is a reason they let me into their homes in the first place. Maybe they have seen a photo of mine, or they read something I wrote, perhaps they saw my picture somewhere, or a friend told them one of my sailing stories.. and yet, it is all imaginary. Truthfully they don't know me at all - They just know about me.


I lay in the that wonderful bed this morning, watching streaks of warm light sneaking in through the windows.. the room was still and quiet, but I could feel my heartbeat, and I could the wirring of my thoughts.
"How much of my own life is based purely on "knowing about"?
Untouched, and un-experienced", I wonder when I think about people, or places, or moments, am I imagining them in ways which they truely are, or are they, at most, fabrications of my naive mind. .
If I take away the things that I "KNOW" simply based on my knowledge (reading a book, seeing a picture, listening to an opinion), I am not left with much.
I might know pieces of their truth.. but I haven't experienced the richness of reality.
Is there dust on the moon, and what does it feel like?
How does the end of a marathon hurt?
What does an octopus eat?
Does Alaska even exist?
I think I know the answers to these questions.. because I have seen photos, read articles, heard descriptions, and yet I don't really know them. Only about them.
So much of my knowledge is based on unconfirmed supposition.
I Know about. I do not know.

imaginary friends from far away places. I am not satisfied with imaginary friends from far away places.
How much more incredible is it to actually meet someone you have only read about.
How do your fingers ache when you touch a friends skin for the first time, or hear soft whispers in your ears rather than just reading words from a letter?
How increible is experiencing a wonderful laugh.. honest and loud, it echos through your soul and makes you warm inside.
It makes them real, it makes them personal, and it makes you aware.

It is so so so good to "know." Really know.
It is so good to own life.
You went and saw and experienced, and hurt, and loved, and touched.
Because life is more beauitful in person.
because people are more vast in person.
because color is more astounding in person.
because fire is hotter in person.
because water is deeper in person.
because running is faster in person.




my real friends are waiting.





(Andrew Tipton)