Forces Driving More
with no obstructions, was all that separated her from us. If she was
after fresh meat, we were an easy takedown.
Over the next several minutes we barely breathed. Some say that
when voluntary control is ripped away and the possibility of death is at
one’s doorstep, time slows down. For me, the next few minutes seemed
an eternity, but eventually the lion stood up and walked way, glancing
back at us while ambling down the slope. Feeling more secure, we let
out a sigh of relief and calmed ourselves with nervous laughter.
Later that evening, as flames from the fire licked the night sky, the
conversation turned back to our earlier encounter. We had started the
day as passive observers of wildlife. Then a lion reordered our priorities,
involuntarily putting us in touch with the raw fear of death. Our lives
back in the States had rendered conscious thoughts about survival
unnecessary, even obsolete. Yet thousands of miles away from home,
in unfamiliar territory, subconscious survival instincts had sprung into
action. When it appeared we might be part of the food supply of wild
animals, the desire to live took command.
The experience was a stark reminder that all people are products of
their environment. This oft-used phrase usually refers to home and com-
munity. Yet we had just witnessed how the environment extends back
thousands of generations to relatives we had never known. Go back
far enough in time, and our existence intersects with ancestors whose
biggest challenge was surviving each day. Just as in the African proverb,
each morning they started out running, not because they needed the
exercise but rather because they wanted to live. That will to live was
passed down from one generation to the next until it reached us.
Back in South Africa, watching the lion rise up on her front legs had
reminded me of the Serengeti. Her one move had reinforced how my
environment encompassed geographies outside of the Americas and
time horizons beyond my lifetime. Fear of wild animals and preventing
my own death could be traced back to inheriting my progenitors’ will to
live. Without that past, there would not be a present or the possibility
of a future.
As the lions relaxed and fixed their gazes elsewhere, I did too,
watching the sunset turn to night. During the drive back, with the