This morning I had the privilege of having breakfast (via Zoom, thanks to the pandemic) with my favourite author, Dr Isobelle Carmody, and some of her other fans. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect going into it, but I want to write about two key things she spoke about that had a profound effect on me.
The first thing is hope. Isobelle said something along the lines of, “Hope is not a grand, golden angel spreading her wings. Hope is a scrawny little bird with only a few feathers left.” This struck a chord with me because lately I have felt hopeless about my PhD. However, her words made me realise that this is only because I imagine hope to be a golden angel, when, in reality, I have been experiencing hope as a scrawny bird. I do have a small and tattered beacon of hope that I will succeed, otherwise I wouldn’t be continuing.
The second thing is trying in the face of failure. Isobelle is an activist and she talked about how she often feels powerless and small as an individual. After all, how can one person amongst 7.9 billion people truly make a difference? Isobelle talked about how, despite these powerless feelings, she decided to spend 365 days protesting for refugee rights in Australia. She spent every day for an entire year standing alone with different signs that had information about refugees. She said that performing this action made her realise that, as an individual, she does have power, and that it’s worth it to try even if you expect to fail.
This makes me think that, even if my PhD supervisor expects that I will fail my PhD and be awarded a Masters instead, I should maintain my tattered hope and keep trying anyway.
Hearing these words of wisdom this morning from someone I admire was a breath of fresh air amongst the dark, dank, messy, confusing forest that is the final months of my PhD.
By the way, Isobelle will be writing a memoir about her experiences whilst protesting for refugee rights which I am so looking forward to reading. Of course I recommend checking out her other books too – I love all of them.
Photo by Gemma Evans on Unsplash
