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Home > For Free > Articles > issue6vol6

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How Busy is Too Busy?

By David Brewster December 2006

Just as the car crested a hill it stopped. The engine went silent and the car just coasted. Thinking quickly, Simon managed to steer onto the shoulder of the road before he came to a complete halt. It was only then that he noticed the needle of the fuel gauge resting comfortably at its lowest position.

He climbed out of the car and looked around. Nothing. He was an only an hour from the city but it might have it been a day for all the signs of life on offer. The sun, still high in the sky, washed the colour out of the landscape and brought with it a stillness as every creature but Simon hid from the heat.

Simon glanced at his watch. He was busy. He was always busy. This trip out of town was meant to be quick. Two hours out and back, an hour for the meeting. Hardly half a day. And he'd got heaps of work done on the way up - at least a dozen phone calls. He'd made a few on the way back too, until his phone finally gave out.

The phone! It was in his hand. He'd reached for it instinctively, thinking that Kathy would be able to organise something. But, of course, it was still flat. It stared at him as dumbly as the cows in the paddock next to him. Now what?

He slumped backward against the car, looking back and forth along the road. He waited. And waited. The heat quickly became unbearable.

Finally a glint of reflected sunlight in the distance announced a vehicle coming towards him. To Simon's great relief, the driver, sporting a helpful face, pulled up beside him. He looked like a farmer, probably about Simon's father's age.

Simon explained his predicament and without hesitation the farmer suggested he jump in. "Come back to the house with me," he said. "We'll get some fuel to get you out of trouble. You can use the phone and have a drink: you look like you need one. My errand can wait until tomorrow."

It was dark and cool inside the farmer's house. Sensing Simon's urgency, his host pointed to the phone.

"Kathy, I'm going to be late for that 4 o'clock," he said without ceremony. After explaining the situation, he went on. "I've still got that proposal to finish and email off before the end of the day. Could you look through my diary for tomorrow and prepare anything I might need. It's a full day of meetings. We'll have to have that chat you wanted a bit later - sorry."

He put down the receiver and turned back to the kitchen. The farmer beckoned Simon to sit down, passing him a welcome drink.

"You're obviously a very busy man. Lots to do - and quickly." He paused for a few moments then continued, "How will you know when you're too busy?"

Caught off-guard by the question, Simon looked away. "I … I don't know." He glanced at his watch. "It's time I got going," he prompted.

"I was like you once," said the farmer casually as he made to leave. "I was running a small business in the next town. And I was always in a hurry. Once - on this very road - I drove straight past a bloke who'd broken down. Didn't even see him. It wasn't until my brother picked him up hours later and brought him back here - badly dehydrated - that I realised he'd been there at all.

"It was then I understood I had a 'busyness limit'. And I had passed it. What was the point of getting so much done if it was going to make me that self-absorbed?" 

Simon was silent as the farmer drove him back to his car. He liked being busy and wasn't very comfortable being challenged on just how busy was too busy. But in his heart of hearts he had to admit he probably wouldn't have stopped to help someone in his situation this afternoon. He wasn't comfortable with that thought either.

He thought about Kathy. She'd been asking for a meeting with him for two weeks but he'd kept fobbing her off. There was always something else that needed to be done.

Preparing to drive away, he noticed, for the first time, the country around him, golden in the afternoon sun. He looked at the farmer, "I guess I've passed my 'busyness limit' too. I'm sure I could ease off the pace at least a little." As he drove off he yelled back: "It might even help me to notice a low fuel gauge in future!"

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