Horse-Sitting in The English Countryside and Passing my PhD

I returned to England from Sri Lanka on June 13th, neatly completing my circumference of the planet. When I arrived in London I was confronted with the leafy, sunlight-bathed streets which was definitively contrasted to the frigid, Christmassey winter from which I had departed. Emotionally, I had not prepared for how this total recall would affect me. As I hauled my bags across Peckham towards my friend's flat I could smell all the familiar fruit trees and flowers in blossom, cherry and apple trees, roses, tulips, magnolias, orchids, snowdrops, daffodils, foxgloves all of it combining in a poignant assault on my senses, reminding me of what I had lost.

My friend's flat was the perfect refuge from this and it was there that I was able to emotionally recharge. His flat was covered wall-to-wall with books on poetry and feeling inspired I took to writing out my feelings by the banks of the Thames, across from my favorite view of St. Paul's. Still, it was strange to find myself for the first time, after more than a decade, in the city as a tourist, my American accent no longer just part of the city's diverse makeup but now a signifier to my un-belonging. I felt isolated and patchy, reconnecting with old friends only to have it coated with a tinge of melancholy at how things had developed in the six months since I'd left and this feeling of the endless churn of our lives, for six months I had been radically displaced from any fixed location and so in essence was a drifter. Instead of visiting peak touristy places, I found myself naturally drawn back to my old haunts and neighborhoods like Primrose Hill, Finsbury Park, Harringay where I even stopped by my old coffee shop But First Coffee and was pleased to see it was exactly as I'd left it. I took my coffee and walked the old "highline" as I used to call it that connects Crouch End to Finsbury Park, but I found no reason to walk all the way to Crouch End then as I used to in the past. There were no records to buy, no small-plates restaurants to try, there was only me in the vibrancy of London that had not stopped beating or blooming.

I went to visit my old therapist, as I recognized that I was in an unexpected funk. She helped me develop a plan that had been playing out in my mind where I would go back to North Carolina to accept the job for late August, save money, spend time with my grandparents, get in touch with my roots and then leave North Carolina for a new place on my own terms instead of trying to find a new place to exist now which was overwhelming and akin to running away from things. I told her that I worried about returning to a small community where my progressive values and openly gay lifestyle would be against the grain of the status quo but that I did not feel willing or able to have battles every day for my convictions and found the prospect very stressful. But as she reminded me there is always a way out. And this helped me to feel better about it all. I also determined that I would go on a long distance trail next year, possibly the Appalachian Trail.

I spent one more week in London, and I started to feel a bit better but found myself for the first time really eager to get out of the city, which seemed to have nothing for me anymore and nothing that I could hold onto. I took up my horse-sitting position in the countryside, about 10 minutes from Peterborough, which is about an hour and a half by train north of London. I was anxious about this as I had not been around horses since I was a child in any meaningful way. The house turned out to be like a fairytale, it was thatched, built in the 1600s and beautiful. There were two old horses, a boy and a girl. They were called Dan and Cleo, there were two dogs, also a boy and girl: Genghis and Ellie. In addition to this the woman who had found me on the website MindMyHouse, ran a dog-sitting company where she looked after neighborhood dogs during the week, usually a couple at a time so I would have those extra responsibilities.

My daily routine quickly became wake up around 6:30am, feed the dogs, boil the kettle to make the horses food, feed the horses, brush the horses and clean out their hooves, muck the manure out of the fields, check periodically on visiting dogs if there were any, water the outdoor plants, replenish or flush out horses water troughs, walk the dogs, give dogs their medicine, feed animals dinner. Repeat. Though it seemed like a lot to me (especially the part about mucking out the manure daily) I rather enjoyed the physical demands as I found it quite cathartic, rhythmic and good for my soul. I was glad not to be in London where I would invariably spend more money and here there was a bike that I could easily ride into town to get groceries and loads of gorgeous walks to go on and explore the countryside. This was the best part. I also found the time I needed to really prepare for my Viva, and spent the free-time I had re-reading my thesis and preparing my notes and questions that my advisor suspected the examiners would ask me.

I did miss Pride in London, for the second year in a row (and I truly think the pride parades get better every year). The longer I was in the countryside the more ready I felt to leave England, at least for now and go on new adventures and to new locations that were out there waiting to be explored. And in my heart of hearts I understood that I needed the time to heal and reflect and continue figuring out what I want for my life next after this milestone of completing my PhD.

On July 13th I had my Viva for my PhD at Senate House Library in London, I wouldn't have wanted it to be anywhere else and I was so happy with my examiners, one was Dr. Betty Jay from Royal Holloway and a Woolf specialist and the other was Richard Robinson from Swansea who I suggested as I quoted his work and enjoyed what he had to say. I admit that I prepared for the exam to death because I truly believed I might fail, in fact the entire four years that I had been doing the PhD a huge part of me never really believed I would get it or pass. I had fully been taken in by imposter syndrome that unfortunately convinces so many women that they don't really deserve to be in their career or position. So when I met the examiners and the first thing they said was that they had lots of positive things to say it completely changed my mood and I had to switch gears. I had even prepared a list of excuses and apologies for my work but when I began to explain myself in this line Dr. Robinson stopped me and said "Oh, that's interesting what would you have done differently," and I realized I needed to backtrack from my list of excuses. Actually, as scary as the Viva seemed (a 2-3 hour oral examination to ensure that you know and can discuss the material as well as respond to criticisms about it) it was actually so much fun and endlessly useful to be able to discuss my work with people who had read it and understood it. I could tell when I was answering their questions well because of their slight smiles or body language, which was reassuring and I found myself covering smoothly all the points I had prepped in a natural way, so really it couldn't have gone better except that I was aware my face was completely flushed the whole time.

After a couple of hours they asked me to step into the hall and I waited with my advisor who had been there to take notes and listen. She told me I had done well and seemed very pleased, which made me happy. When they called me back in and told me I had passed I felt elated and shocked. I shook their hands and was thoroughly pleased. I left the library I had spent so many hours studying inside of, feeling for the first time that I belonged there. I realized that the biggest setback I had had towards achieving my PhD had been my own lack of confidence and self-doubt.

I met up with my friends after the Viva, which happened to also be on the same day that 250,000 people met to protest Trump's arrival in the UK. I got to briefly join the protest which was incredible and exhilarating--I saw the giant floating baby with a wailing Trump face and phone access to Twitter floating above Westminster square. Then we went for wine and oysters in Soho followed by live music at Spiritual Bar in Camden Town.

I came back to the horse-house feeling eager to plan my next journey and adventure both in my career and for my spiritual/physical/mental improvement.