An Accidental Writing Retreat
TLDR: My parents are awesome, surgery sucks and I need to spend more time in the woods!
Sometimes, life throws chaos at you and with it comes accidental gifts which would not have happened otherwise. That happened to me this summer. After the joys of passing my Viva, and the administrative stresses of making corrections, I hurt my back so badly I was rushed into surgery. This experience was, perhaps inevitably, horrible! But, it has meant that I have spent the summer with my Parents whilst I recovered.
Before the injury, I was working on corrections and making initial plans for transforming my work into sharable outputs that could showcase the innovations I had made and help me to get an academic job. It strikes me now that this me that this transition from PhD to Postdoctoral scholarship was made much more dramatic by my body disintegrating a little bit at the same time. As my mind was figuring out how to reinvent my work, my body was figuring out how to walk safely. It was a much more all-encompassing transition than I expected.
After being discharged from hospital, I stayed with my dad in the Lincolnshire Fens for several months. The countryside usually does me good when I am unwell, and his house was much more accessible than my own. Unsurprisingly, it was not easy to work for several weeks. The medications made my brain more chaotic than normal, and my body was in pain, and changing constantly. The cognitive load of recovery was overwhelming, and the idea of putting any effort into writing or research was too much.
Nonetheless, I recovered quickly (as my doctors said I would) and was able to walk more comfortably than I had done in years within a few weeks. The prospect of work became much more comfortable. The challenge then became, how do I work without the structure of a studentship or a job to drive my organisation.
I had always intended to spend the time between my viva and finalising my PhD dealing with the mountain of admin that builds up when you stay in one academic institution for any length of time. Amidst this, I was going to figure out how to continue my research. I knew I needed to build a website, start a blog, and work on articles to publish in academic journals. But I had not got further than that in my planning.
Suddenly, I found my self adrift in my work, unsure of how the immediate future would look. And whilst my mind was going through this, so was my body, as my bones healed and my muscles recalibrated. In some ways, the break from working for a few weeks was much needed. The stress of an injury, the hospital and recovery were exhausting, and at some points a bit traumatising. Yet, I could not stay in that place for too long – I had things to do! What was more vital, it turned out, was the opportunity to have space away from my everyday life. Without the pressure of running a household, looking after a cat, and looking after myself, I had space to breathe and reflect, in a way I would probably not have been able to do if I wasn’t in that situation.
That probably says a lot about my ability to relax and compartmentalise, but it also says something about how important this stage of my life has been. That the space and time that recovering from surgery gave me was exactly what I needed to figure out what I would do next, and how. I could step back from my day-to-day, to think about what I wanted my professional life to look like, and how I wanted to market myself in the academic world. Additionally, I could do all of this with my dad by my side reminding me that I could do it, and that I probably over think things and that I shouldn’t spend the whole day playing video games. This accidental retreat to focus on planning was a boon to my professional development, even though it came out of such a horrendous time.
Don’t get me wrong, the injury was not “worth it” to get this accidental retreat, nor was it secretly a good thing, or all “meant to be”. It has changed my life in ways I will probably not fully understand for a while and should unpack in therapy. Nevertheless, my life was already at a pivotal moment when this happened, and the space this time afforded me was – as it turned out – instrumental to refocusing myself and moving forward with my academic aspirations despite no longer having an institution to support me.
Having reconfigured my work, adjusted how I view it, and rebuilt my body, it was time to write! And, conveniently, it was also time to relocate to Scotland to “finish my convalescence” (as my dad put it) with my mum. I was worried that this was a bad idea. She lives in a more rugged place, further away from a hospital. If I got into trouble and needed help, I might struggle to get swift enough support. However, I didn’t need to be worried. The cooler weather and more stairs benefitted by body, and the beach fed by soul, giving me inspiration and extra incentive to go outside! Spending time with my mum has been so lovely, and her persistant support and encouragement has helped me to stick to recovery when it has been hard. I am also doing more things out and about, going to big cities, attending craft meetups and even presenting some of my work to a local theology group. These gave me the opportunity to introduce myself to strangers not as a PhD student, but as an independent scholar. This cemented the transitions I had made and gave me the opportunity to practice being more independent and present in this new place in my life. Compared to even a few weeks ago, I am more confident in myself and my ability to return to living independently.
This social aspect of my current situation surprised me. Lincolnshire was social, and I got to spend time with friends and family which was such a comfort as I reckoned with what had happened to me. But meeting brand new people and getting a taste at doing things like crafting with others and presenting my work has been so valuable. Plus, the opportunity to write, read, and think in a place of such dramatic beauty feels like the solitary retreat I needed to get my first attempts at self-promotion and public writing out of my brain and onto the page.
I am so grateful to have landed softly at the end of my PhD, and after a big injury. And I am so grateful that it gave me these unexpected opportunities to recover and reevaluate in places that are safe, comfortable and inspiring. And, most importantly, I am so grateful to get so much time with my parents, and to be looked after so well, including in ways that I didn’t expect to be looked after as an adult. The rest bite and care have been so vital, and I am so lucky to have access to it. I only hope that the work that is generated because of it does justice to such generosity.
I guess that is why writing retreats can be so powerful. They take us out of our lives, if only for a little while, and give us the space to be creative and reflective, to lay our selves bare to this work that we do, and hope that something fitting comes of it. And then we anxiously return to our normal lives and hope that the time away did us some good. I think my time away has done me the world of good, not least because I will be returning home far healthier than when I left. Plus, I get to re-enter my home and my life with clarity about what I want to do next – and how (at least in terms of my academic work) – and can adjust my space and time accordingly. Basically, I would advocate for a writing retreat at this time in one’s academic life. But, please, try not to go into emergency surgery beforehand! Being able to feed and clothe yourself is an underrated ability, and though it does give you a good excuse for a break and time with family, the pain is significant and can sometimes be embarrassing – 0/10, would not recommend! Maybe a well-planned week away in the forest, or a spell by a river would be a better idea!
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