Busy Lizzies

In the distance the traffic drones. I listen instead to the chirp and twitter of the birds in the trees. It's late summer in Africa. The air is warm on my skin, the mid-afternoon sun is hot if you are out in it too long and the Busy Lizzies are in full bloom. I write at the table on the verandah. M reads about the 2010 soccer world cup. His father does a crossword puzzle and his mother does Sudoku. This is what a lazy summer afternoon should look like.

This is a far cry from Vancouver one week ago. Far from lazy, we were busy: caught up in Winter Olympic fever, rushing to complete work and tie up loose ends. I got no writing done and felt the frustration of it. We watched the Olympics as much as we could and it ate into our precious and fast-dwindling time. "But it only happens like this once in a life-time," we consoled ourselves each time we set busyness and commitments aside to cheer on the Canadians. With each medal won, we celebrated with a chocolate medallion of our own, a Purdy's Sweet Georgia Brown.

The cheerful and restful pinks of the Busy Lizzies belie their name. My busyness doesn't look as lovely and peaceful as these Impatiens soaking in the African sun. Au contraire! At rest I have more in common with the Busy Lizzies. I have time to reflect that I want to be less busy, more creative, and more at rest within myself. I want to cook more and write more. I want to welcome friends into our home more and read and exercise more. But for more of that I need to do less of something else.

I let that thought slide. I don't want to think anymore of my busyness. Right now I want to be as busy as the Lizzies in the garden.