by Olivia Neale | Fall 2023 |
Oxford came unexpectedly. I am a hobbit at heart, quite content to stay with my books and maps, dreaming of faraway lands from the familiar comfort of a cozy armchair. I’ve always agreed with Bilbo Baggins that adventures, while they sound enlightening and formative enough, are associated with such unpleasantness as uncertainty and decision-making, two of my least favorite things in the world.
Yet at the mention of adventure, a “Tookishness” stole into the heart of Bilbo or, more accurately, it “woke up inside him, and he wished to go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and explore the caves.” It’s a feeling that peeks outside the door of comfort, wondering if a little adventure might do some good.
Like Bilbo, I often find myself torn between the hobbit’s proclivity for security and comfort and the “Tookishness” that is insistent the world is meant to be explored. Yet even Bilbo reluctantly opened the door to step out onto the Road and into something greater than himself.
I may not have confronted cave trolls or found a magic Ring, but I have faced the London Underground and seen sights that rival the Misty Mountains across England, Scotland, Wales, the Netherlands, and Switzerland.
Here’s what I’ve learned along the way (an abbreviated version because it’s impossible to boil down a semester’s stories and memories into a reasonable word count):
- The unexpected becomes home – I never thought a willow tree I sat under with newfound friends on my first day in Oxford would feel so like home, yet I frequently found myself at Christ Church Meadow to write, reflect, or do homework near my favorite trees. As refreshing as the Oxford rain is, I will always hold a special fondness for the bookstores I ducked into to browse and wait it out. The house itself became an enclave of warmth and camaraderie, and we found ourselves saying, “See you at home!” when passing one another while running errands.
- Sleep is overrated – To my surprise, sunrise hikes became an integral part of my travels. Our first such adventure was Todd Crag in the Lake District, chosen on a whim when watching the sunset over the Windermere and seeing it in the distance. I soaked in sunrises over waterfalls, Loch Ness, and Lake Geneva, and each was worth the 5 a.m. wakeup. The importance of rest should never be diminished, but sometimes, sacrificing an hour or two in my warm bunk bed means experiences that will last a lifetime.
- Community comes unexpectedly – The two women we sat next to on a train (one of whom happened to go to college in my hometown), the strangers I sat next to at a public lecture on Tolkien, the first graders I met volunteering at church, the girl at the yarn store – all of these people became Oxford and shaped my memories of it. The 21 people with whom I shared the house became fellow adventurers, many of whom I might not have met otherwise but now look forward to seeing around campus.
Now that we’re almost at the end of the trip, I expected I’d feel nostalgic and melancholy, but all I can feel is awe at God’s goodness throughout the semester and gratitude for all we’ve done.
When I become too comfortable in my hobbit hole life or in the mundanity of classes and work, these moments I shared with you (and countless others) will reawaken something “Tookish” and may find me opening the door once more.
