The sun has just risen over the Grootberg Conservancy in northwestern Namibia. The morning light strikes the khaki-coloured veld with a tenderness that betrays the day’s coming heat, and in that moment of awakening, I see reflected a fundamental truth: that I am but a visitor here, a temporary custodian of something infinitely larger than myself. The footprints I leave in this sacred sand will be erased by the next wind, but the memories I carry away become part of my very soul, woven into the tapestry of who I am and who I might yet become.
It is once again a timely reminder that not all is as it seems at first glance. I am moved to continue to walk with humility and consider deeply where I fit into all of this vast magnificence, what I am to do with it and what I am to leave behind when I am no longer a part of it.
“Sell your cleverness and purchase bewilderment” as Rumi is quoted to have said. All of life warrants curiosity, closer examination, contemplation and, above all, respect and gratitude.
Namibia is a vast cathedral of stupefying beauty. A land of stark contrasts where the earth stretches endless and amber beneath a sky so blue it seems to hold the very breath of eternity. I lived here briefly as a child and its sun burned its mark deeply into my soul. My return now, after an absence of 43 years, constitutes a sort of pilgrimage as it were.
This truly is a magical place. I continue to lose myself in the vast, fascinating mystery of the seemingly inhospitable environment, which is both foreboding and inviting at the same time in the infinitely profound, awe-inspiring treasures which lie hidden beneath the arid exterior. Here, in this harsh mother of creation, where the thornbush writes its ancient calligraphy against the horizon and the wind carries stories older than human memory, I once again understand that we are not separate from the wilderness, but part of its eternal conversation.
The Desert’s Teaching
Less than a week ago, I walked up “Big Daddy”, one of the highest dunes in the world, in the Sossusvlei region of the Namib desert. Standing in this immensity, dwarfed by its scale yet somehow enlarged by its presence, I am reminded that the wilderness teaches us reverence, not through gentle persuasion, but through the stark honesty of survival. Every ochre sand dune, every thornbush has earned its place through persistence; every creature has found its niche through adaptation and respect for the greater whole. The San people, those first children of this land, understood this fundamental covenant long before the rest of us began our fumbling attempts at civilization.
They moved through this landscape like shadows blessed with substance, taking only what they needed, leaving only the faintest trace of their passage.
The Circle of Giving
From the desert’s hard-won lessons springs a deeper understanding of generosity. In a place where water is precious and shade is a gift, sharing becomes not merely virtuous but essential to survival. It reaffirms my conviction that those who have less, often understand more about the true nature of abundance. The person who owns little but shares freely lives in a different universe from the one who hoards much but gives nothing. Generosity, I have learned, is not about the size of the gift but about the size of the heart from which it flows. It is about recognising that we are all walking the same difficult path, that we all need water, that we all seek shade, that we all long for the comfort of knowing we are not alone in the vastness.
Gratitude as Ground
In the evening, when the desert finally exhales and the first stars appear like ancient ancestors returning home, I attempt in my own feeble way, to practice the art of gratitude, not as a discipline imposed from without, but as a natural response to the recognition of how much I have been given. The very fact that I can stand here, breathing this thin air, feeling the cooling sand beneath my feet, witnessing the cosmic theatre above, fills me with a wonder that borders on the sacred.
Gratitude, I have discovered, is not simply about counting blessings but about recognising the intricate web of circumstances, choices, and grace that has brought me to this moment. Every breath I take has been filtered through countless plants; every step I take is supported by an earth that asks nothing in return; every thought I think is made possible by a brain more complex than any wilderness, yet entirely dependent on the same fundamental elements that compose the rocks and stars.
Gentle Significance
Over time, I have learned that the most profound impact comes not from dramatic gestures but from gentle persistence. This fascinating environment and that which shaped it over millennia is the perfect metaphor. The wind that carves canyons does so grain by grain; the root that splits the rock does so slowly, patiently, without violence.
In my own small life, I seek to make my mark in this same way -not through conquest or dominion, but through the cultivation of understanding, through the patient work of bridge-building between different worlds of experience. I want to leave behind not monuments to my ego, but seeds of possibility.
The desert reminds me that significance is not measured in volume but in authenticity, not in the breadth of our reach but in the depth of our roots. A single quiver tree, standing alone against the horizon, speaks more loudly, yet eloquently, of endurance and purpose than a thousand identical saplings planted in rows.
The Paradox of Contrasts
During my pilgrimage over the last fortnight, I have experienced both the glorious and the terrifying. There are massive wildfires in parts of the Etosha National Park and I witnessed them at close proximity. It is truly sobering to experience both the incredible beauty contained in the desolation of the vast expanses, paired with the diametrically opposed terrifying destructive power of fire, laying waste to everything in its path.
Yet, at the same time, the knowledge and the realisation that there is no place for the new to take hold before the old has been done away with is a stark, enlightening realisation. And the new, in its daunting, foreboding uncertainty, is something to look forward to. If am to grow, develop, expand and enrich my human experience to ultimately exist in subliminal harmony, change must be something I yearn for, rather than eschew by retreating to the narrow boundaries of my inherent uncertainty. I am compelled to embrace change as the promise of new beginnings, embodied in the dawn of every new day in this paradise of paradox.
Living Examples
As I sit by the small fire that pushes back the gathering darkness, I think of the children – my own and others – who will inherit this world we are shaping with our choices. What example am I setting in the way I walk upon this earth? What stories will they tell of how I lived, how I loved, how I treated the garden that was entrusted to my care?
I want them to remember that I tried to live lightly, that I recognised my place in the great chain of being, that I understood myself to be not the master, but a mere participant in a conversation that began long before and will continue long after I have returned to dust. I want them to see in my life a demonstration that it is possible to live with reverence, with generosity, with gratitude.
The desert night is full of sounds invisible to the casual ear – the rustle of creatures going about their ancient business, the subtle shift of sand responding to temperature changes, the distant call of night birds maintaining their eternal vigil. Each sound is part of a symphony that has been playing since the beginning of time, and we are privileged to add our small voices to its chorus.
Facing Tomorrow
As I look toward the horizon where tomorrow waits with all its uncertainty, I find myself both humble and hopeful. The future unfolds before us like an unmapped territory, full of challenges that will test everything we think we know about ourselves and our place in the world. Climate change, technological transformation, social upheaval – all of these forces gather like storm clouds on the horizon of our existence and could easily overwhelm us with the threat of unmanageable uncertainty.
Yet the desert is a wonderful metaphor for the fact that adaptation is possible, that life finds ways to flourish even in the harshest conditions, that cooperation and wisdom can overcome seemingly impossible odds. The key is to approach the future with respect, with awareness, with the understanding that we are part of something larger than ourselves.
We must learn to read the signs, to adapt our methods without abandoning our principles, to find ways of living that honour both human aspirations and planetary limits. We must become, in essence, indigenous to the future. We must delve deep to rediscover possibilities we have not yet imagined, strive to become fluent in languages we have not yet learned to speak so that we once more become part of the Oneness of the universe.
The Footprints We Leave
As the fire burns down to embers and the vast canopy of stars assumes its full glory, I understand more clearly what it means to take only memories and leave only footprints. The memories we take are not mere emotional souvenirs, but experiences which transform how we see, how we act, how we love. They must surely become part of the wisdom we carry forward, part of the legacy we pass on, part of the continuing conversation between human consciousness and the great mystery of existence.
The footprints we leave are not scars upon the landscape, but gentle impressions that show others the way forward, temporary marks saying “a human being passed this way, and tried to pass thoughtfully.” They fade with time, as they should, leaving the path open for others to find their own way of walking.
In the end, this is all I can do: walk mindfully across the brief span allotted to me, taking from life only what I need to sustain myself and those in my orbit on our journey, leaving behind only the evidence that I was here, that I cared, that I tried to live with honour in the presence of something infinitely greater than myself and that the way in which I did it serves as an example to those who come after to not only emulate, but ultimately and necessarily improve upon.
The desert sleeps now under its vast canopy of celestial brilliance, but it dreams the dreams of eternity. And I am grateful to have been allowed, for this small moment, to share in that dreaming.