I embarked on a journey as one of 12 women, each of us strangers, to South Africa’s Londolozi Reserve. We were with life coach and author Martha Beck, part of her African STAR program. During our workshops, we’d set off every morning before the sun rose to explore the unknown, track the animals, drop into wordlessness and become one with the universe. When we’d return to camp, Martha would ask us to do a “three-minute capture”: to write down whatever thoughts came to mind of what we had just experienced. Here below are a few of mine. They most likely will mean nothing to anybody but me. And I love that.
Caregiver to all from age ten. Raised by a schizophrenic mom, then to raise a schizophrenic sister. Tried to control it all to my own neglect. Failed in so many ways. Work became my identity. I ignored the work that was – for me – natural and more play. I always worried and thought of the next paycheck, in preparation for the next shoe that would fall. Now I am finding myself adrift alone. No anchor. Both good and bad.
The sounds: the gnarls of the lions and their breathing and sparring. The sounds: the gurgling of the elephants slurping water, splashing it over themselves, and I think toward us to ward us off. The sounds: of silence with a stealthy leopard and the padded feet of elephant that you just don’t hear other than crackling twigs beneath. The sounds: of interference and noise, of people chattering, even whispering, trying to overpower the peace, along with the voices in my head.
