The Wild Self

- an observation on nature, belonging, remembering -

City girl in the African Bush, August 2026

“We must learn to read the subtle tracks of the body, the way it relaxes and opens when something feels right, the contraction and tightness when we are not where we are meant to be… Bringing attention back to the landscape of the body allows you to find the trail of the wild self.”

 - Boyd Varty

( The Lion Tracker’s Guide to Life) 

This summer I found myself somewhere I never imagined - sitting on a game drive vehicle in the African bush, close, so close, staring into a lion’s eyes.

This is not what I had planned this summer.  Earlier this year, I happened to find myself sharing a room with a lady from South Africa called Cally.  This serendipity, my gentle and joyous roomie, invited me on an incredible adventure - to join her on retreat in Karongwe National Park.

There were many sensible reasons to say no.  I would not historically call myself spontaneous, but I didn’t hesitate for long.  Sometimes you just know you have to say yes.  “The way the body relaxes and opens when something feels right…”  South Africa was tugging at my soul. 

Boyd Varty might call this tracking.

The Journey

I have never ever really considered myself an outdoors person.

My childhood was filled with shopping centres, the inside of cars, television and central heating.  I've lived in London for over twenty-five years and genuinely love city life. I love its mess, its grime, noise and energy.  And too, all its man-made beauty.

I’ve always been more of a city-break kind of gal than a rugged camper, you know? And yet something has been changing.  Countryside walks have been calling. Nature has been waiting for me to notice.  

The birds, here and abroad, have become strangely irresistible to me; their singing melting away any possibility of boredom. If you'd asked me ten years ago whether I'd willingly spend hours sitting in silence waiting for birds to alight nearby, I'd have scoffed. 

How is it that I never noticed them before? 

Maybe I’m just tracking…

The Bush 

On safari, you cannot help but be blown away by the majesty of the natural world. Each moment a surprise, each happening upon a creature, a giddy excitement.  Lessons in power, survival, brutality, and presence right there. 

But standing in the African bush, I sensed something beyond even exhilaration or open-mouthed moments of wonder. 

Midweek, a reflection from my fellow traveller, Shinobu, stopped me in my tracks.  The truth and tenderness of her words will stay with me forever:

‘No mistakes.  Only contribution.’

In nature, unmeddled and untamed, could this be true? Really so simple?  Nothing to fix - neither the suffering nor the beauty.  Nothing to covet - neither the brief glory of sunrise nor the satisfaction of a kill.  Nothing to improve.  Nothing to prove. 

How might this knowing be experienced in my own animal heart? 

A profound sense of okayness maybe. 

Worth, belonging and home.  

“No wild animal has ever participated in a should.” - Boyd Varty

The Poem

After a few days in the bush, our wildlife guide, Ali, invited us to experiment with writing a poem.  Taking inspiration from Mary Oliver's beautiful work, Wild Geese, we borrowed its rhythm as a launchpad to allow the landscape to speak through us.

I’d love to share my own emergent poem with you…

I do not have to be afraid.
There are no mistakes; only contribution.

I do not have to make the peace.
I do not have to pander or preach.
I do not have to work it out. It will work out anyway, in spite of me.
I only have to follow...
and track
my life. And laugh.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile, the world goes on.
Like the shifting red dust it moves, quick and slow.
I belong here, where battles rage like wildfire and subside like tracks erased clean with the rain.
Meanwhile, animals roam.
Indifferent. Important.
Surviving, sometimes playing.
I play too.

No matter how lonely,
the world offers itself like an endless embrace,
calls to me like
a cheetah, vulnerably poised,
a leopard, the unpredictable power,
a lion, breathing still.

The birds. singing. singing. singing.

The Practice

Although I was lucky to find myself in wild immersion this week, nature has a way of reaching us all.  Ali's invitation wasn't really to write a poem.  But to pay deep attention.  And to notice what nature reveals.  And what we could reveal to ourselves.

If you'd like to try the same exercise (perhaps you will find yourself a poet!), below are the prompts we were given -along with plenty of time - to start a free flow of words and thoughts…

Perhaps you'll uncover something you hadn't expressed before, trusting that nature might help us uncover the tracks of our hearts. 

Reflection prompts in nature: 

I do not have to be…[what?]

I only have to …[do what?] 

Meanwhile… [what is happening in the environment around you?]

Meanwhile… [what does nature show you?]

No matter how …[I am feeling]

The world calls to me like … [insert animal, descriptor, descriptor]

Home

When I arrived home, something quite unexpected was waiting for me.

Like magic, my long-suffering peace lily had flowered.  Its first ever bloom after a touch-and-go relationship in my keep for many years.  

Was this coincidence? I'm starting to believe there is no such thing.

Whatever the explanation, it felt like nature was whispering,

"Welcome Home."