It's no secret to those who know me that I've been struggling to be happy since I came back to Toronto from fieldwork two years ago. It was a massive and devastating shift for me to go from actively doing research about a topic I was fascinated by and travelling to all sorts of interesting places in Europe and meeting so many amazing people, to being socially isolated through the writing process and physically unable to do the activities I loved because of a serious knee injury. This is even more true when I consider the incredible year and a half I had before that when I backpacked all over Europe, did my first stint of fieldwork in England, and discovered how empowered and confident I felt through dance and weightlifting. In sum, I feel like I lost much of what I loved about my life in the past two years. And so, I've made a big (and rather scary) decision in an attempt to change that: I have decided to move back to the UK to find a job at the end of this summer.
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| Doesn't he look enthusiastic?? |
Everyone I've told keeps telling me how brave I am to do this. It's a comment that I heard a lot when I was backpacking alone overseas as well, whether I was in Wales or Romania, and it makes me smile and wonder. I don't feel brave - I feel terrified! But maybe that's the point about courage (and this is something that Ben said to me): that you go ahead and do something anyway, even in the face of fear. And maybe an inability to do that is why so many people lead lives that are 'half-lived', to use a phrase from Baz Lurhmann's film Strictly Ballroom. It seems strange to me that so few people are willing to take these sorts of risks with their lives - your happiness is at stake, people! Isn't that worth a duel with your fear??? Who knows... you just might win. :)
I'm thankful that I've long felt like I needed to push myself out of my comfort zone, although I'm also unsure as to why I feel compelled to do this when others do not. (Note that this also pertains to the question of why I've subjected myself to so many years of graduate school, when most others have the good sense to get the hell out after their undergrad... not that I regret it, but still!) I don't think I'm a very practical person in many ways, particularly in that I didn't go to university to do a program that had a guaranteed job at the end of it, and I also seem to want things that others don't, and to reject things that others do want. Or, at least, the things they think they want - a house, a nice car, 2.7 children, etc. The Raconteurs' song, 'Steady, As She Goes', always makes me reflect on this...
I think some of my family members in particular struggle with this - they just want me to 'find a nice boy' and 'settle down'. (My mother's words! Aaaaghhh! - Sorry, Mum.) They see that most of the people I grew up with have done just that, and it's awesome for them, if they're happy with that life. But I've found that the pressure to do the same things has definitely intensified since I've gotten into my 30s. And you know, I have moments where I want that too, especially since being a homeless wandering vagabond for months at a time is a life that I find challenging. I know that I love travel and will always need to do it because I have a case of insatiable wanderlust... but I really like having a home base to come back to... and I haven't figured out where I want that to be. Or what I want to be doing there. My career is incredibly important to me, and I want to be damn good at it. I want to do things in my life that are important and meaningful, things that make a positive difference in the lives of others. But not knowing what that will be... that kind of complicates things. Fundamentally, I'm not going to settle somewhere in a life that doesn't make me happy, and that is what I would be doing if I stayed in Toronto right now. So, I'm going to take a risk and see if what I'm looking for is waiting for me on the other side of the pond.
I'm a bit short on two important things in this journey I am embarking upon, the first being adequate money to keep myself going if I don't find work right away, and the other, of course, being a job waiting for me on the other side. But I have two big important things on my side that I didn't the first time I went overseas: 1) some of the most amazing friends a lady could ask for and 2) enough professional contacts, research experience, and confidence that I think I can make a real go of this and give it my biggest and best effort. Oh, and I can't forget my knee being healed enough to make the journey (and haul all of my luggage!). I'm incredibly grateful for all of it. And if I go over there, and nothing works out, and I come back, at least I'll know. I'll know in my heart that I gave it my best shot, and I will never have that 'what if...' hanging over my life.
Speaking of Baz Luhrmann, thirteen years ago this summer my Dad gave me an album with the below song on it because, as he put it, 'I thought it was the sort of thing you'd like'.
He was right. I hadn't listened to it in ages, but I pulled it out last week, and it's still gives some pretty damn good advice:
'Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your
life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they
wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year
olds I know still don’t...
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t,
maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary…
Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either –
your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s.'
And you know, I still put on sunscreen every day.
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