Community. Deeper
than the physical towns of Dawson Creek or Chetwynd, 2018 fostered connections
and cemented sense of place. The
workplace was my first community, and point of contact in Dawson Creek. Taking a sabbatical abruptly tore me out of
that supportive environment and I was relegated to isolating online studies. As I’ve so often done in the past for social,
mental, physical, and ultimately athletic support, I leaned on my sports teams
and clubs.
Too scared and injury receptive for game play, I continued
to practice with my indoor soccer team, and enthusiastically rejoined them on
the outdoor pitch for the summer. It was
another hard-fought fun season with most games carrying on to Boston Pizza for
“pizza and pop” where we compared bruises and recounted stellar and botched
plays. The progressive party concluded
as we walked each other home.
The beginning of 2018 presented an unusual opportunity: free
lifeguard training. I attended “tryouts”
and was one of 24 accepted from 49. It
wasn’t an exploration I’d seriously considered until it was right in front of
me. Confined to studies by day, it was satisfying
to physically work towards something, with what quickly became a close-knit
group, in the evenings and eventual weekends.
By the end of our National Lifeguard course in May, I was one of about a
dozen to successfully complete the course.
But I still wasn’t an employed lifeguard. A wet, and then dry interview still awaited
where I continued to (out)compete with my cohort for a spot on deck at the
local pool. I have savoured the new
working environment – the learning curve has been steep, but I feel well
supported and cared for by my fellow guards and swim club teammates.
My sabbatical was mostly successful. I received good grades for all the courses I
was registered for, but fell short the ultimate reason for the sabbatical, my
goal: completing my Registered Professional Forester designation. Invested since 2015, it’s a goal I feel a
sick, perverse even, loyalty to complete, and it’s been fraught with
roadblocks, ditches, and fiery dragons.
It’s felt like each step I take forwards, my professional association is
waiting in the bushes to kneecap me. This
coupled with general work dissatisfaction and career disappointment has had me
deeply questioning my long-term role and plans in the natural resource
sector. Perhaps it’s the notable, uncomfortable
even, lack of community at my day job that’s adding to my uncertainty. I can’t wait to leave at the end of the day
and be in familiar embrace of one of my athletic communities.
