Until last year, I had an idea—if vague—about what the next few years of my life would look like. I would finish my undergraduate degree in English Literature, walk the stage at graduation, move home for the summer, and then begin a Masters, also in English. After, I would maybe embark on a PhD, although I really only entertained this idea because I come from a family of professors and it seemed almost inevitable that I would pursue a similar path. What I did not factor in this partial plan was the kind of learning that takes place outside the academic sphere.
When I went abroad to Edinburgh, Scotland last semester, my entire worldview seemed to shift. No longer was I subject to the grueling workload at UofT, which compelled me to spend virtually all my time in the library with very little in the way of a social life; instead, in Edinburgh, I was at liberty to enjoy a lighter course load with fewer assignments. When not in class, my friends—who were also exchange students—and I would wander the city streets, often with the destination of a local landmark or a cafe. One of our favourite pastimes was browsing the shelves at Blackwell’s, a multi-story bookstore near the university that, in TARDIS-like fashion, was much larger on the inside than the exterior suggested. On Tuesday nights, we would meet at Dropkick Murphy’s, our beloved Irish pub, for an hour of line dancing, led by a short, mighty Scottish woman. On weekends, we were either out of town, in a different city or country, or exploring the sights of Edinburgh.
I will admit that the library was not altogether foreign to me: there were still essays to write and readings to do—albeit far fewer than at UofT—but these tasks did not consume me as they had done in Toronto. For one, I knew that my grades would translate to only Pass/Fail on my UofT transcript. I also knew that I was in Edinburgh—a city imbued with a sense of magic and wonder, with winding cobbled streets and hidden staircases. Of course, Toronto has many wonders to offer (even if it is far less aesthetically beautiful than Edinburgh), yet I had never viewed the city through the lens of a tourist. I had only viewed it through the eyes of a student. And as a student—one who is gripped by a perfectionist attitude—my studies had always dictated my life. It had never occurred to me to wander through a new neighbourhood of Toronto, or to try out a cafe beyond the few on campus.
In Edinburgh I was a tourist first and a student second, which meant that for the first time since childhood my studies took the backseat. Suddenly I had the mental energy to form and invest in new friendships, to try new things, to say yes to everything that came my way or to make the plan first. I could venture out to pubs with people who I had known for less than a week and order a drink of my own (although I quickly learned that ginger ale or water was my drink of choice!), without worrying about how late I would get home and whether I would be too tired the next day to work on an essay or finish a reading. I immediately felt a sense of freedom and happiness that I don’t think I’ve really experienced at UofT. I was soaking up the world in a tangible, real way, rather than merely learning about it through my books and essays.
Now, when I think about what my post-undergraduate life may look like, I do not imagine what it should—or what I thought it should—look like, but rather what I want my early twenties to look like. And that begins with an intermission in my studies. I want to move off campus, which is where I’ve been living for the entirety of my undergrad, and find an apartment with a friend or two. I will need to work in some capacity, but I also want to make time to meet new people, to see new places, to read new books—to experiment within my day-to-day life. Perhaps I will be able to find work abroad at some point!
If my time in Edinburgh has taught me anything, it is the value of experiencing life outside the classroom. This does not mean that you should pack your bags and catch the next plane to Europe or the UK. Travel is, after all, an expensive pursuit. Rather, I encourage you, as I am encouraging myself, to treat your own life with the sense of adventure that befits a tourist!