The Free Day

There was once a young female who, one day, found herself suddenly “graduated.” She was alone in a home overlooking distant mountains, the hills of Wellington and a glassy, blue harbour. 'What do other people do when they graduate?' she wondered, gazing out at the next plane coming in ('southerly now', she thought - the wind couldn't make up it's mind this day). There was an entire day stretching ahead of her and she sighed, thinking of how finally she could simply sit down and write.

However, the vegetables needed chopping and the soup needed making, so she got up to switch on National radio while she worked in the kitchen for a couple of hours. After finishing, she realized the hospital needed to be called for her blood test results so she could chart the results on excel, keeping up-to-date on her rising and falling (but mostly falling) blood counts. The soup was almost done so she then thought she would pour herself a big, streaming bowl of it, and she toasted her favorite rye bread to have with it with peanut butter. While she was finishing her lunch, her friend Skyped her (when will “Skyped” become a verb?) from the US, during which she heard a vehicle outside. After talking for an hour or so, she ambled down the stairs to check the mail and smiled as she saw a package at the door – 'must have been a courier', she thought. Upstairs again with the mail, she read through her acceptance letter to Whitireia for her journalism diploma starting next month, before ripping open the package to unfold the new duvet cover she had bought online.  Knowing it needed washing, she glanced tentatively with longing at the couch and the computer before putting the cover and pillowcases on 'quick' cycle. 'While I'm washing I'd better just give these a soak too,' she thought as she saw her two delicate pink tops in the bedroom. Setting these to soak, she dealt with her husband James' dirty washing, hanging his work pants out to air. As she was outside, the dog, Ralph, gave her a mournful look and she felt pangs of sympathy as he hadn't had a walk yet. So, deciding to multitask, she thought she would take Ralph the long way down to the shops to post the letter. Upon her return, she stole into her mum's room and used her mini weights (she tried to stay strong) and then showered. Naked and wandering up the stairs with her wig in hand, she thought she might air out the wig. And so, out went the wig along with the duvet cover and pink tops, the wind that had picked up whipping the wet cover into her face. The day was getting on and she suddenly realized she hadn't cleaned the kitchen – what would James think she did all day if the kitchen was still a mess? - so she set about unstacking and stacking the dishwasher and wiping all the surfaces. Now it was getting dark and her mind was turned to James, who could be home anytime from 5.30. So, thinking she would do something sweet for him and seeing the bright red chilies in the bowl, she grabbed a handful of them and skipped down four flights of stairs to the front door, arranging at the entrance a heart shape of chilies. Making sure the door was unlocked and the light on for him, she wandered back up the stairs to make the bed and make dinner. When she had dinner all prepared, she received a text from her James saying he wouldn't be back until 7.30. Sighing at his love of work, 

...I could finally sit down. I absolutely don't blame you if your eyes glazed over that massive, monotonous paragraph. I suppose this has been my exploration of how an entire day can slip by without even being able to do something so simple as write. It's now the next day and it's still taken me until 4pm to sit down and write (the floors needed sweeping, the animals feeding, fire lighting...no I will spare you a rundown of this day too!). The sun is desperately trying to peek out through the thick cloud that has enclosed the city all day, and Warwick and I are sitting by the fire.

Although this may seem a lonely existence, up here in a vast house overlooking a cityscape and beyond, for the first time there is silence. You see, I've recently begun listening to National radio, and during all the distractions of 'life' I've been lucky to be inundated with world news, national news, politics, the latest scientific discoveries and more. My mind has been spinning. Mentally, my first two days after finishing the last of the work for my degree  has been spent traveling to Pakistan, Malaysia, back to the US, down to Parliament, down South...I suppose further than it ever went in a single day at university. In defense of a university education though, it's delightful to feel adequately able to analyze and understand issues due to the International Studies experience and my Anthropological training I have been lucky to have. 

Throughout my degree I was petitioning academia to tell peoples' stories more, to reach the public and engage with not only other academics but everyone with their projects and findings. In all honesty, I've always looked down on journalism as being 'non-academic', not scientific, and lacking ethics. But I've come to realize something. I realized it as I was whisked across the world today by journalists, as journalists dug deeply into the recent bills passed by Parliament, as they were in Malaysia talking to protestors at the election and in Syria talking to UN representatives. As they were discussing the cancer ravaging the Tasmanian Devil, reviewing French films and a children's book written from the perspective of a young female child soldier, as they painted pictures of the weather I love to gaze at and talked with interest and intelligence to artists...

I realized we spend so long pushing so hard against life, trying to do what we think we should do... dreaming of doing other things. And then finally, at some point in our lives, we will have a sudden revelation, and decide, “I've always hated accounting, I'm going to be a gardener!” or, “I've never felt like a genuine salesperson, I'm really an artist!” I know this isn't exactly profound and it's been said before plenty of times, but James and I have hit that point - almost by force really - where we have realized that what we were pushing so hard to do wasn't really fulfilling. It's just like people who hang on to religion when the threads of belief and logic are hanging bare and loose yet they still just hang on, not really knowing why. 

What would you do if your life was suddenly different? If everything you have constructed fell away? What would you bring with you? What would you leave behind? Last time I wrote of how cancer has been one of the best things that has happened to us, but this is a question important to all of us; something we all know already know the answer to deep down. 

Now, simply by social connections and his own drive, James engages with the public every day. He is learning an entire new world, is constantly engaged and loves it. National radio told me Richard Branson has come out and said that no-one really needs business degrees – hearing this, James laughed. We smile about this and know that having a deep social understanding of the world is going to do us well in any job. And now, in just a few months, what my classmates see as work (with a resigned sigh), I will sigh with a smile and think - 

    - 'at last, I can sit down and write'.