A devoted yogi
A devoted yogi
Because I have the tendency not to want to distinguish between the philosophical, sensual and the spiritual, it is unavoidable that personal philosophies surface within my story: It also seems that emotions and their sensual and supernatural origins are easier for me to recall than the salient facts of my past. In writing this story, my memories hardly seemed to settle before drifting off again, leaving a smudge of philosophical mention between the lines as proof of their brief visit. They did, however, leave a common clue; they were always drawn to the familiar unknown: an enigmatic force which pulled at my awareness of things.
Clearings in the bush define the spirit of Africa. From the air they are isolation in the depths of a fearsome forest: from the forest floor they are a fragile attempt to define the tenuous existence of a small humanity within an expansive African Soul.
In an earlier blog I said “I was not at all convinced about the omnipotence of the lion. On a spiritual level I believed that the leopard was far superior.” Was I wrong, or is the Lion a poser!
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