I just finished watching “Out of Africa” again. Perhaps for the third time. When I watched it before, I still believed love could be caged, contained, managed, kept “safe.” I no longer believe it. The wild, free side of me has been resurrected. That side of me was deeply moved by the movie and by Denys bid for his own inner freedom, necessity of living aligned with his own values.
Another side of me wishes my own desires, conflicting needs, love it self could be contained, managed, made safe. A human part of me still has a part that desires things stay “safe,” fixed and dependable. Another part of me knows Love truly as the ground of Being.
The movie evoked memories of Africa; of seeing the Lake Turkana covered in pink flamencos, Ngorongoro Crater, hearing hippos every night splashing in the river near out tent, of walking the land where the movie was filmed, standing by the tree on the very spot the burial scene was filmed looking over the vast plain below while a Masai guarded us with rifle at the ready.
I stood there four years after the film was made. I was yearning for freedom, seeking it externally in some place. I now know it will never be found there. And yet sometimes I wish it could be.
Later:
Finish the movie over an hour ago but feel the movie still moving through my system with all the memories it evoked. Needing to focus to stay spacious enough to allow all to pass through without moving into suppressing how much has been stirred up. I very much identified with Karin the first times I saw the movie. Now Denys’s words struck me as very accurate. Love cannot be caged or contained. My ideas of freedom and his are quite different but still I resonated with many of the things he said.
Just asked my wasband to confirm on what lake we saw the pink flamingos in Africa. And then I remembered some thing I hadn’t thought of in years. Our Jeep was surrounded by playing cheetahs and I ran out of film and was unable to get a picture. At that time I was so obsessed with pictures I often missed the Now moment. I bitched and moaned up a storm. So much so that our guide decided to let us stay in the park after hours, apparently a major no no.
I still couldn’t let it go and was in the midst of a shit fit. And then we saw a sight that I am imagining very few get to see. We saw two mating ostriches. They do this incredible dance, so graceful and magnificent. My mouth hung open in awe and it was able to penetrate the density of the upset. Just three humans and two ostriches seared into the memory banks. It Remains one of the more moving experiences of my life.
