It took me a moment to realise it was a deer; it was hardly bigger than my dog as she hurtled after it across the field. It must have been very young; young and panicking as its spindly legs darted here and there looking for an escape route. They bolted out of sight around the woodland and then I heard the scream. I’ve never heard a deer scream before. It is high and unearthly and still, somehow, a universal communication of anguish. I sprinted round the trees after them, dreading what I might find on the other side.
The deer had tried to squeeze through the fence and its back legs were stuck. My dog had already bitten it, ripping a short wound in one of its thighs, but couldn’t get a hold as the deer kicked and flailed. I put my hands around the deer’s frantic body and moved its legs so it could twist through the hole. In just a moment, it was free and bounded away through the trees.
Moments like that are a hazard of owning a dog, and I’m relatively used to seeing the fear of the chase and, occasionally, the trauma of a rabbit or a squirrel killed in the capture. But, that day, I just couldn’t shake the emotions off. I cried at the thought of that deer’s fear, the scream, the fact it went into the wood alone and injured. I didn’t just cry with sadness, or shock, or empathy, I cried because the moment seemed to confirm something I had been feeling for months: the world is a bad place.
Like the deer in the fence, I had been struggling hard for a long time and I was injured and exhausted.
I was about to turn 30, I was suddenly and unexpectedly single and living with my parents, and I had been six months in my dream job and, the truth was, I hated it.
I hadn’t always felt this way, my usual state of being was in regular wonder and love for the world around me. Every day I walked my dog and, whatever the weather, and whatever was going on in my life, there was always a moment in which I would be struck by the beauty of it all.
The scent of the rain in the leaves on the forest floor, the warmth of the sun on my arms, a crocus pushing its bright head up out of the undergrowth.
But, for months now, that feeling had not come. At first the loss shocked me. I would step into the fields and take a long deep breath through my nose to try and smell the damp earth, the woodsmoke on the breeze, the oil in the fleeces of the ewes. But it was like my senses had gone numb. I couldn’t identify the smells in the air, I couldn’t discern the beauty around me. Eventually, I started to forget. I started to believe I had been mistaken and the world wasn’t that beautiful at all. And now, watching my dog try to savage the frightened deer in the fence, I knew for sure that the world was a hard and terrible place.
Except.
Except somewhere, so far down inside I couldn’t tell if it was a thought or feeling or chemical reaction in one of my cells, I didn’t believe that. I knew, in that place, that there was something wrong. Something in my life stopping me feeling the truth. And, when I listened to that tiny whispering thought, I knew I needed to make a change. And it had to be a big one.
My life had completely changed in the year leading up to this. My partner left me and, with him, went all my plans for our home, our future, my life. All I had left was the career I was pursuing in law. I had given years and thousands of pounds to get as far as I had and it paid off. I won an award for my grades, and landed a job with my ideal law firm.
But, every day in that job I was miserable. I cried on my drive in to the office, and I cried on my way home. So, when I knew something had to change, really, I knew exactly what it was.
But I couldn’t walk away from my law career. It was my greatest accomplishment. I had ploughed all my money into it and worked seven days a week for years to make it work. Now I was working harder than ever to prove myself in this new firm. How could I walk away after all that? This was the epitome of my achievements, the proof of my intelligence and my worth. Wasn’t it? If I couldn’t see this through, I would be a failure.
One of my biggest fears, the one I kept coming back to day after day, was how it would look on my CV if I couldn’t make this job work. I would never find a better job, I would never be able to explain to a prospective employer what happened without admitting I had failed. Everyone who saw it would see proof I wasn’t clever enough, hard-working enough, committed enough, strong enough.
Almost every day I was in court meeting solicitors and barristers from all over the area. Every day they complained about their firm, their boss, the system, the judges, their colleagues. So, I started asking them, what keeps you going? What inspires you to stay when you face this problem? I was desperate for someone to convince me it was worth it. None of them could.
Eventually I realised a career in law asks you to give your life. I just wasn’t prepared to do that.
The first day I didn’t go back, I took my dog to the same fields where she had chased the deer. It was very early in the morning and, at first, I walked without paying attention. I was full of fear and panic and disappointment and anxiety about this insane twist my life had taken. Slowly I became aware of Daisy’s movements: sniffing tufts of grass and running spirals of delight following rabbit trails. I became aware of the pale morning sun filtering through the clouds and spotted a clump of snowdrops with bowed white heads under a hedge. Suddenly, the breeze brought the fresh green smell of coming spring. It was like my ribs were expanding with breath for the first time in months. I could feel it again! Everything around me was waiting to be explored!
How could I have been so worried about my CV, a piece of paper only strangers see, when it meant sacrificing my love of the natural world that bloomed and died and bloomed around me?
I had a new plan to follow: a wild and unpredictable one. The love and joy that filled me now didn’t make me less frightened about what I was doing, it didn’t make it easier, but it did make me more certain. It made me more me. And now, it didn’t matter how crazy my life might sound to anyone else, I knew I was finally walking the right path.
