This weekend marks the third week of my time in Cornwall, England. The first two weeks were really hard. I cried like a baby almost every time I spoke with my boyfriend, because I was missing home so much. That, in turn, made me feel foolish and childish. I have travelled for long periods dozens of times before, why is this time so hard?
This is the sixth time I moved somewhere to study, and I can’t count the times I have left for long periods of field work, or personal travel. I went Finland to study for a semester abroad when I was 22, and shortly after went to Quebec for five weeks to study French. About two weeks later, I went to Nunavut for five weeks, and thenI moved to Waterloo, Ontario to study for my Masters. About 4 years later I went to South America for 4 months partially to study Spanish. Now at 35, I have moved across the Atlantic to study for my PhD. Every single move before this was not only easy, but incredibly exciting and fun; I just could not sit still when I was younger. This most recent move has been the hardest, and there could be a million reasons why.
Perhaps one of the reasons why this move has been difficult is related to the two year long pandemic. I spent two years working from home, bouncing back and forth between Saskatchewan and British Columbia. In Saskatchewan I would spend my days with my family, with ample time with my mom, sister, niece, aunty Pam, and cousin Haley. In BC, I worked all day with my friends Anne-Marie and Jess, and other friends who lived within the litle bubble of houses (Jon, Chris, Warwick, Jontario, Sarah, Adrien and Chella) were always close by after their work. When I moved to Victoria, I was right underneath Eric and Natalie, and a quick walk way from my Fallon and her family. I met my Aunty and Uncle for supper at least once every two wees. My partner, who I met about a year ago, has been by my side for almost the entire time with the excpetion of my 1.5 months in the Yukon. I would visit his friend Raph when she worked at the brewery, and look forward to dinner’s with his work friend Kailey and her partner, Jesse. I would go visit friends in Cambell River, and look forward to visits from Taylor. Long story short, I love my people and my communities, and miss being with them all of the time.
Unrooting myself was so hard because I’m in this new phase in my life where I’m craving just that: roots. Never really feeling like I belonged in Saskatchewan, or Ontario, I am so fortunate that I have finally found a place where I feel authentically myself, and am surrounded by people I love, and who love me in return. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I see myself in a coastal rainforest, surrounded by thickly mossed tree trunks, underneath dewey canopies, atop blankets of ferns. I want to go skiing on the weekends and be cuddled up on the couch watching a funny show with Brian in the evening. I want to go on lunch-time runs to Fallon’s and see her little ones grow up, still mostly full from the giant serving of porridge Brian made me every morning. I want to whisk away to Saskatchewan to see Poppy’s future dance recitals, and be in the similar time zones with my best friends scattered across North America.
I also want to enjoy England as much as I can. Sometimes I catch glimses of my earlier uber adventurous self, craving exploration and the touch of new soil. I can still see her, and I know she is in there somewhere. It feels so good when she decides to come out and marvel at this new coastline, delighting in conversations with new accents, running in new wilderness, and trying Cornish foods. I think the pandemic, career and relationship worries put her asleep for a while, but this new experience is slowly waking her up out of her slumber; one cup of English tea at a time.
My therapist says that these homesick feelings are actually healthy. This new phase of craving roots signifies a turning stage in my life of being more comfortable with commitment, something I was previously terrified of. Finding that balance between wild and free, and rooted and grounded, is where I want to be. I aim to be trusting in both the future and the past, but being totally in the present.
My housemates took me to this beach and took photos of me with rocks (lol) <3
And presently, my housemates are making lunch and offered to make me a cup of tea. Their beautiful puppy, named Skye, is trying her hardest to lick my face. I thinking about how to do my hair tonight for the black tie dinner I am attending. I get to wear a ball gown (SO EXTRA). I’m wondering if I’ll get to see some kilts. The wind is blowing relentlessly, and will definitely mess up my hair. I get to meet one of my PhD friends for the first time, who has been doing his studies remotely from Scotland. I will probably get to try some kind of English cocktail or beer.
Cuddles with Skye-dog
This whole experience is allowing my dream to come true. How cool is it that I am purusing a fully funded PhD in England?(!!) I haven’t been this fulfilled with my day-to-day endeavours in my entire life. I am very well suited to the life of a research social-scientist: thinking, reading, writing, and teaching. What a dream. I’m sure my slumbering inner adenturer will come out completely once I am able to buy a car and a surf board.