When it comes to n,
most of us think
taking the ultimate et
there are so many other destinations that can
inspire a deeper understanding of this ancient
practice. Here, Yoga Journal contributors
share their experiences in some far-off
places—as well as a few surprising spots
closer to home—that have transformed
their practices and their lives.
Off t
BE
t
OUR OPEN-SIDED LAND ROVER
inched closer to a clearing in the
thickbush, and our guide, Fannuel
Banda, whispered urgently to us to
stay seated—and quiet. A couple of
hours earlier, the enormous red
sun had sunk into a vast horizon,
which meant that in the pitch-
black darkness, Banda had to point
his large flashlight toward what he
wanted us to see: a lion, devouring
its fresh kill.
Despite the fact that we’d been
hoping for a lion sighting all week,
my initial instinct was to look away.
I was mere metres from this
brutal feast and could practically
smell the blood. I caught a glimpse
66 of the poor warthog’s face, an
may/june 2018yogajournal.com.auexpression of fear still present in its
eyes, and wondered if it was the
same little guy I’d spotted earlier
that day, innocently digging his big
snout into the ground in search of
his own dinner. But I didn’t look
away. None of us on this game
drive through South Luangwa
National Park in Zambia, Africa,
did. Instead, we stayed seated and
quiet, observing this death in its
perfect, if gruesome, unfolding.
It’s admittedly strange to go on
safari, practice yoga and
meditation in the blissfully quiet
and Wi-Fi–free bush, and have this
zen-like reaction to a scene so filled
with harm. Yet what I learned
almost immediately, here and onInto the Wild
BY MEGHAN RABBITT
PHOTOS: ALEXBRYLOV/ISTOCKPHOTO.COM; SHARPTOYOU/SHUTTERSTOCK; JÜRGEN SCICLUNA/MTA/VIEWINGMALTA.COM; JOSE IGNACIO SOTOU/SHUTTERSTOCK