When I left Glasgow four years ago, I was sad to leave Scotland, but I knew that it was important to go back home (Utah) and be with family. That decision has definitely been a blessing. I’ve been able to spend so much time with my mother, and the adventures my sister Beccah and I have had are priceless. Not to mention taking care of my two nieces.
The magical beauty of Kilmory Oib
When I went back for a visit to the UK last spring, I stood in a deserted village in Scotland and listened to the silence one can only achieve when in the middle of nowhere. My heart ached. It’s been aching ever since, and this past summer, I thought I’d found the answer. Do a PhD (involving writing, sewing and Dorothy Wordsworth) at Lancaster University. The stars seemed to align. I took an excellent online course about William Wordsworth. I contacted professors at the university and they were kind, generous and encouraging about my ideas. In late November, I submitted my application, and waited eagerly to hear back.
And waited. And waited. I finally got my answer in early February (only a little over two months, I know, but it felt a lot longer!). It was ‘No’. I immediately emailed the one particular professor I’d been corresponding with and asked her advice. It was to apply for a masters degree first, then go on to do the PhD. She pointed out that academically and financially, it might be a better deal. I was convinced. So I applied for the masters program she recommended, and which would fit in with what I wished to study and accomplish.
So, another two-ish months of waiting, and I got an answer to my application.
It was ‘No’.
My kind family and friends tell me that something else better is in the wings. And I might still achieve my Dorothy studies in some other way, through another avenue. It is difficult, when o e had such a lovely plan, to have to start from scratch and come up with something new. It isn’t difficult to have your credentials, your references, your writing all politely declined.
Good thing I’ve already become used to rejection from literary agents!
But I have learned a few things from this agonising experience. Life is full of waiting. And I do want to get a PhD and become a professor, something I did not know about myself a year ago. I just have to go about it a different way. I’ll get there in the end, for I also know that anything worth having is worth the effort, worth the work and, of course, worth the wait.