A Tale Of Many Truths

Seated under majestic nyala trees, deep in the wild and beautiful home of Africa’s free roaming big five, a group of people were enjoying a social evening.  Stirred by the bone chilling shriek of a bushbaby, a few eyes peered uneasily into the darkness.  Gently soothed back to comfort by the call of a square-tailed-nightjar, the conversation re-ignited and glasses clinked in merriment. In the far distance a jackal softly cried, and somewhere in the nearby dark, a spotted hyena whooped in response.

As the minutes passed into hours, the talk excitedly narrated stories of past adventures and epics.  The conversation evolved to a discussion of how “others” had done things in work, love, and play. Much energy was spent talking to how we “would” have behaved, and how things “should” have been managed differently.  The spirit, and comfort, of the evening allowed thoughts, hypothesis, and bravado fuelled views to flow freely.  Fire is a truly glorious conversation stimulant.

The next morning whilst the group are out on a walk, they unexpectedly come upon a large, dominant, resting male lion.  From a deep slumber, he swiftly sprang into full combat readiness.  In aggressive posture his tail twitched determinedly and rigidly left to right.  Then it straightened, then it moved up then down, and then, in an agitated second, as unexpectedly as he was wandered upon, the lion made the decision to charge.  

From a place of unguarded relaxedness, within the time it takes to blink an eye, some of the perspectives so authoritatively discussed the previous evening, swiftly unfold into a reality.  A few faced the charge head on.  The greater majority, with magician’al coordination and supernatural prowess, shifted some paces back.  A retreat, albeit small, is not good when facing a charging cat, and they are fortunate that they unconsciously remained together. Stopping only a few paces away, the lion chose not to follow through. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he angrily backed off hissing and growling. 

Unsettled to their very core, the group who had now regathered, shakingly sat down and attempted to contemplate the closeness of their harrowing confrontation. We are not apart from nature, and everybody, if even for only a moment, had felt in touch with their mortality.

The day passed to evening and soon everyone returned to the fire to share their story. The words of the previous night were long forgotten, and behavioural explanations flowed fast.

Like the previous night, the nearby shriek of a bushbaby again caused a few eyes to peer nervously over their shoulders.  Comforted by the flickering soft hue of warm blue flames, imaginations soon settled and glasses continued to clink in familiar merriment.

Although everyone had lived to tell the tale, something had shifted deeply for some. Already they carried themselves a little differently; Less assuming, more self-trusting, wiser, and more alive to that which really is. Metaphorically these already adults, had transitioned from girls to women, boys to men. As us with so much in life, it is how we make sense of our experience that determines who we continue to become.

Then, as from nowhere, a south westerly breeze began to push high cirrus clouds – A cold front was on its way. The change shifted the smoke from the fire, the plums that had drifted upwards, now had some of the group grudgingly shift seats. 

In the far distance a lion softly grunted. It is the same, but different. 

After Note: This piece was first written in 2009. The words are reflective of a true experience whilst out on trail. Exploring the shift from a-priori to a-posteriori, the words speak to life [work, love, play, …, politics, sport]. Depending on where we psychologically find ourselves, they will speak differently – And thus the title “A Tale Of Many Truths”.

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