Loomings: Enjoying Uncertainty as Freedom
In the words of I Capture the Castle’s Cassandra, ‘I write this sitting in the kitchen sink’. That is, the room I am sitting in is the classic box-room in London, and a sink wouldn’t be too inaccurate a description of its dimensions. It beats Harry Potter’s cupboard under the stairs and for me is a saving grace: I have finally escaped living at home.
After one and a half years of applications I have finally got an internship – it may be only six weeks, but it’s something. Home for me is Durham, a tiny city tucked on the top-shelf of England’s fridge. It’s great if you like drinking coffee in cafes, walking along rivers and (most importantly) have a means of getting out of there. My sarcasm only hides great affection – I love being northern; cut me and I probably bleed trebles. But returning home after university is one of the hardest things you can do – and I don’t think many of us were prepared for it. To say I felt suffocated would be the equivalent of saying that Cats the movie has its limitations or that Owen Farrell is fairly attractive – both glaring understatements.
After graduating, one of the scariest things is the feeling of being unnecessary, purposeless. Part of the romantic literature student within me could pretend that trudging through the cold to work at a local cafe was something out of a novel, that I was a modern-day Jane Eyre. Reader, I am that lame. But sending off a barrage of applications to hear absolutely nothing does nothing for the self-confidence. It’s hardly a new issue. I don’t pretend to be the only person ‘suffering’ – it’s important to recognise how privileged I am to be able to live at home (currently) rent free. Although having said that, my parents want me out the house as much as I do and taking the pennies I earn serving fruited scones five hours a day would not be a lucrative move. But it still seems ridiculous that getting into the arts industry requires a blood sacrifice and the earth to change orbit – and that’s just to get through the first selection stage.
The scathing rejection of graduates is certainly a lesson in humility, if not in mercy. Social media magnifies the sense of struggle too by forcing comparison. I’ve deleted the holy trinity – Instagram, Facebook and Snapchat - countless times, only to redownload them as, being marooned up North, it is too easy to feel that you’ll be forgotten like a sad Greggs sausage roll. It’s definitely creepy how this little rectangular screen mutates into a portal - or for the LOTR fans, a palantir – which feels like a lifeline to the outside world. Sometimes life does feel like you’re Samwise Gamgee struggling up Mount Doom with Frodo bitching in your ear and Gollum trying to murder you. Mondays can be that grim. But life has made me feel that everything happens for a reason, and I definitely believe that there’s every reason to keep on pushing forward. It’s important to keep on doing what makes you necessary - not waiting for the article to write itself, not waiting for life to happen.
Therefore, in January - never mind how long precisely – having saved a little money in my purse, and having nothing particular to interest me back home, I thought I would drop everything and see the other side of the world. I travelled to New Zealand, literally leaving all the applications, my laptop (and initially a valid visa) behind me. This time last year I hadn’t really considered travel as an option (so desperate was I to get that seat in the graduate office) and so this felt like a massive break away. Other than finding myself on mountain treks as the mists of dawn cleared, travelling taught me that the future is constantly in flux. Even mundanely, running out of milk can change your breakfast plans from cereal to toast – and we all saw Bandersnatch to know how fundamental a breakfast decision can be. I love schedules and could write a dissertation on the joys of organised fun: I can sum this up by saying that spontaneity has a time and a place. But I think that trying to control the future– to quote the much loved (and much watched during unemployment) Sound of Music, is just as fruitful as trying to catch a cloud and pin it down.
So, while I write this with nothing planned beyond my internship, I’m trying to take comfort in the fact that I don’t know where I’ll be at the end of the six weeks. My bank account means I won’t be anywhere worthy of an Instagram location but it does mean that I have the freedom to do pretty much anything. Now is the time to do it, when I’m young and naïve enough to not look so far into the future.
I read some important wisdom recently: if everything around you is darkness, then it’s a sign that you are the Oreo-cream. I think it might have been one from Mark Twain. In many cases, all you need is a blank fresh document on Microsoft word and a deadline to get yourself back on top again.
Written by Esther Bancroft
A recent graduate of Bristol university, Esther has returned to the pen to write a little bit about a little bit of everything. When not staring at a screen trying to be creative, she likes to buy books without reading them and paint pictures of the sea - which is her healthy obsession.