Overnight journeys. I contort my body in the upright seat, wedged between other people and trying not to intrude upon their personal space. There is the rattle, roar and shudders of the engines. I slid in and out of sleep. In a scant few hours I will wake up in a new place.
My annual UK holiday was more ambitious in scope than this time last year. I was going to fly in to London (Heathrow) and fly out of there two weeks later. Now I had access to London, Oxford & Yorkshire in addition to Scotland. Last year I’d felt vaguely aimless – this year I tried to fill up my social calendar a bit more comprehensively. I sent messages to folk I hadn’t seen in years. Why not catch up and check in?
There was a time when I assumed I’d kinda always stick around Edinburgh. I was warmly happy in the gorgeous, stately city – I thought I could see myself having some kind of professional career in the Scottish capital once I graduated. The details were vague, but it all sorta…fitted.
Then came the email , which I opened and started to read as if I were reading an apologetic rejection, only to realise by the second paragraph that I was being made an offer of an internship in a place I’d never heard of (King of Prussia, PA), but near to a tantalising big city called Philadelphia. I would be spending a year of my undergraduate degree in a foreign country for the first time in my life.
I returned to Edinburgh with a sense of loss and heartbreak. Leaving Philly there was no way I could perfectly get it back. Whatever spirit or perfect alignment of circumstances I had been exposed to over those 12 months, I could never return and just pick them up again like nothing had changed. I realised that to leave one place was to give it up: you can’t get it back. I was no longer thinking about a life in Edinburgh: I wanted an American PhD, I applied for further internships in places I had never considered before (…sure, um, why not Switzerland?!).
This time it was clear that a tangible essence had finally drained away from Edinburgh. I was looking at the same sights, sitting in Black Med watching people walk by, curling into a protective ball on the windy edge of Salisbury Crags…but I was no longer seeing my future self here. Social groups had unknotted themselves and dispersed. I couldn’t replicate the experiences I had deeply enjoyed as an undergrad in my first 2 years at university.
At the same time, everybody I’ve met with has asked me the same question: where do you see yourself ending up?
It sounds blasé to say that I don’t care. Rather, the process of moving to a new place requires actively making it work. I feel sporting enough to apply broadly and put in a bit of effort at any location I’m given. There is also the question of visas: my urge to work in the USA is held in check by the acceptance that I count as a foreigner here and that companies are variable in their recruitment of foreigners. It’s OK not to know. Keeping an open mind is advantageous.