The Circle of Life

When you’ve lived in a place more than a year, and you’ve seen the turning of the seasons, it’s comforting to see that cycle start again.  Admittedly, I haven’t had the opportunity to experience this often or recently, so perhaps that’s why it feels special.  Or perhaps it is because it is spring here in Zimbabwe, and spring is surely the most joyful, playful, hopeful, and all sorts of other “-ful” words of all the seasons.

For what I get to see is the purple jacarandas in full bloom (the ones I blogged about this time last year, because I was obsessed with their color); the scarlet-red bougainvillea following shortly behind.  I see the tobacco growing ever taller and sturdier in the fields, that greenest of green plans which stands for so much evil yet is, paradoxically, oh-so lovely (once again, I blogged about that last year).

It’s not just this rainbow of spring colors that I am seeing for the second time, it’s the rebirth of animals as well.  Piglets, chicks, and goslings squawk around the garden.  And calves, kids, and foals take their first unsure steps and remain, for some time, ever so close to their mothers.

As I experience the life-affirming birth of plants and animals for the second time, I notice the other things that are happening in Zimbabwe again this spring – the cat-and-mouse game the weather plays, temperatures slowly mounting, clouds rolling in, storms breaking the weather for a time, until the temperature slowly mounts again; the countdown until the generator brings us power 24 hours-a-day; and the garden bringing such plenty that I struggle to cook and eat enough to keep up with the amounts of beans, carrots, cabbage, lettuce, spinach, squash, zucchini, cucumbers, tomatoes, strawberries, and papayas, that the garden begs me to eat.

Yet, something is different this year.  I feel calm, content, at peace.  I feel springlike, reborn.  Something has changed in my heart and mind, allowing me to see the beauty around me for what it really is.

Perhaps it’s that I didn’t think I’d see this place again, or that I know I’ll only be here for a short time.  Perhaps it’s that my time with Bruno taught me how to slow down and be content doing seemingly unimportant things.  Or perhaps it’s the beauty of seeing the Zimbabwean spring for a second time, familiar yet new and full of wonder.  Perhaps, perhaps….

All I know is that this time last year, I was struggling.  I would wander around my cottage wondering what to do with myself while I waited for the power to come on; I would fill my afternoons and weekends with reading, swimming and riding in order to help pass the time; I would complain endlessly of the lack of hot water, lack of things to do, lack of social life, lack of grocery store…  But this time, none of that.  I’m doing the exact same things – reading, riding, swimming, gardening, cooking, walking.  But this time, it doesn’t feel that I am doing these activities to fill time, but rather, to fill out the time.  To make it more beautiful, more meaningful, more peaceful, more full. 

I feel content in my solitude.  I feel content with my cats, my simple home, my garden of plenty.  I am not damning my excessive free-time, and the things I choose to do in that free time, I am doing for the right reasons – because I want to.

To quote the Lion King song:

The circle of life

It moves us all

Through despair and hope

Through paths unwinding

‘Til we find our place...

I’m not sure if it’s seeing evidence of the Circle of Life repeating itself on the farm that is responsible for my fresh attitude to life; I’m not sure if it’s this Circle that is responsible for me finding my place here, for me finding contentment and peace.  But what I am sure of is that this Circle of Life has moved me; the beauty in its eternal repetition has touched me and has opened my eyes to the awe and wonder that is the world.

(Don’t worry, I’m still leaving on December 21^st, people!)