Who owns our mornings?
When we wake up.. how much time do we allow ourselves before letting our minds wander like stray ponies?
Do we rush off into our day..? or do we linger a moment in place that belongs entirely to our soul - an embrace with our breathe, with our being here, with our own skin, our own eyes, our own hands and voice.
Often times, I am too distracted to give myself this gift.. to spend a few moments remembering my condition; my impermanence, my dying, my undeserved still here.
Sometimes in the morning as I wake up, I like to take walks through the forest - attempting to see myself in the smallest of details.. to notice everything that my senses will allow. On these days, I find that I am caught in a rainstorm of bewilderment.. life is no longer happening to me.. it is happening through me.




(Andrew Tipton)