The sun was barely up when my alarm woke me, telling me to get out of bed and start my adventure. Quickly and silently, I slipped out of my sheets and into a colorful wool sweater, fur-lined boots, jeans and a beanie, careful not to wake my two roommates. With hair and teeth brushed, I grabbed my tote bag and descended the slightly uneven steps of the staircase. 

In the kitchen, I made a sandwich to pack away for lunch — breakfast consisted of buttered toast and an apple to go. Cool morning air filled my lungs as I stepped outside of the Worrell House, welcomed to a brand new day in the city of London. But today, I would be venturing out a bit further, all by myself.

I didn’t want to risk being late, so I made haste towards the nearest Tube station. Catching the next train brought me to Paddington Station with enough time to spare. I located the train that would be departing for Oxford, boarded it and settled in my seat. Before I knew it, I was watching city skylines fade into meadows of green. My first solo trip was underway.

At this point, it was a bit difficult to believe that I was struggling to pack a suitcase only two months before. I had figured out how to fit a semester abroad into my busy class schedule filled with pre-med courses.

“Why not?” I thought. “It sounds like fun.”

The decision

When applying, Wake Forest’s Worrell House program in London had sounded perfect for me. Much to my excitement, my application was accepted for the spring of 2023. However, even with all of the preparation, I still didn’t really know what to expect. Living in another country for four months with none of my family close by was something entirely new — having been born and raised in Fayetteville, N.C.. And yet, here I was embarking on a new journey.

But I was also embarking on something else that I had brought with me: a book series you might know as The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R Tolkien. Finally cracking open the final book in the series, The Return of the King, while on my train to Oxford — a city where the author once lived — was nothing short of magical. 

But that’s not where the magic ended. Sometimes, my excursions forged a deeper connection with my books. I took another personal trip to Dover to see its towering white cliff sides sculpted by the sea at its feet. When I arrived, the ocean was enshrouded in a dense fog. 

Trekking along a hiking trail for 12 miles, it felt as if I was walking alongside the edge of the world itself. It was views like these that I imagine Bilbo and Frodo, the main protagonists of the series, saw on their travels across the vastness of “Middle Earth.” If so, perhaps I could have kept up with them.

To be honest, any walk I took was easier after climbing Arthur’s Seat, the highest point in Scotland, at my professor’s request during our class trip to Edinburgh. Although there was no blizzard at the time, I still empathized with the Fellowship who had attempted to climb Caradhras in the first novel. I also came to realize why Aragorn’s garments were described to appear as if they were permanently caked in mud.

Similar to the journeying hobbits, I felt myself continue to grow as I spent more time exploring London. I never knew that learning to navigate the Tube system would be so fun and empowering. Despite my adoration for the Tube, I also enjoyed taking walks, which gradually became longer as I learned to appreciate my surroundings. The tranquil parks with their lush flowers, sun-dappled pathways and charming birds are memories that I still gush over.

I got to explore incredibly diverse markets and museums with my classmates, who eventually became my friends. I befriended my professors and the house managers as well, who taught us about the history of London and offered us tips for living there alongside bits of gossip. At last, I even completed my every book and watched the movies for the first time with one of my friends — who was a bigger Middle Earth fan than myself. Every day brought a new adventure, great or small, as I grew accustomed to the ins and outs of the city. But before I knew it, it was already May.

While trying to ward off the inevitable sorrow with warmer memories of my experiences, I realized, to my pleasant surprise, that the end of the journey in my books and of my semester bore similarities as well. 

Just as a great audience celebrated the coronation of Aragorn, thousands of people gathered in London for King Charles’ crowning, too (and yes, I stood in a crowd for nine hours to see him). Following this, Frodo and his companions began their journey home, gradually parting ways one by one. I also watched my new friends pack their things and depart, leaving the house in which we had spent so long together feeling a bit colder. When Frodo finally made it home, he carried back with him the feeling that he had changed forever, and not even the tranquil familiarity of his hometown could cure him. Although my adventure was far less perilous than his, I also couldn’t shake the feeling upon arriving home that I was trying to fit into a place where I didn’t quite belong anymore.

And so my summer break began. You would think that I took that time to do something meaningful. After all, it would be my last summer break before “real life” came around. Not to mention I had set my sights upon medical school, meaning that I should have been a responsible aspiring doctor and begun preparing already. Instead, I fell back into old routines, perhaps more so physically than mentally. Here’s the thing, at the beginning of the summer I had thought that I wanted to live a quaint life like they did in Hobbiton — the books make it sound so appealing. But as the weeks wore on, I became less sure.

Have I ever related to characters in a book this much?

The readjustment

I sat around for the majority of the summer, feeling utterly useless at times. It’s so wonderful and so frustrating to return from such a long, extraordinary journey and find that your home didn’t really change. But you changed, and even if you try to convey your experiences to your family and peers, you’re still somehow out of place. 

Did they know that I trekked along cliff sides hundreds of feet high, where one misstep would have been disastrous? Did they know that my friends and I, with no reception in the Tube tunnels, had to figure out how to reunite with the rest of our group after being separated? Did they know that I learned to prepare three meals a day, nearly every day, for four months straight (when I barely cooked at all before)? 

Did they know what I found out I was capable of?

I was really there, and now I was back again, sleeping in until noon. “Jeopardy!” at 7 p.m. sharp was the highlight of my day.

As I’m sure Bilbo or Frodo could tell you, coming home to old habits and a familiar lifestyle might sound nice, but not quite satisfying once you try to settle in. You’ve got to do something about it. The newly adventurous Bilbo sought to learn more about the world beyond his little Shire, and he took the village’s odd rumors about him in stride. When Frodo found it impossible to conform to the old way of life, he left to find a new world altogether, with his uncle Bilbo joining him.

What could I do, though? As the summer drew near its end, I was sadder not because I was leaving my home life, but because I felt that I hadn’t done enough. Precious time was wasting away. Moreover, I missed my friends and the enchantment I had felt while abroad, and I dreaded what lay beyond.

Going through your senior year can be stressful and terrifying at times. I’ve been constantly anxious about what will happen after I graduate. Getting into medical school isn’t guaranteed; but if it does happen, I have a long road of grueling work and debt ahead of me. Add that on top of the new responsibilities that I’ve become increasingly aware of, and now my time in London seemed nothing more than a silly dream — yet I couldn’t let go of it.

Maybe this is what growing up feels like. Scary thought, I know. But it might not be as bad as many think it to be. Yes, work will be hard, and some tasks will be daunting. Great challenges or foes may hold your attention on only the worst outcomes, a fate that plagued Denethor as he spent his hours staring into the depths of the palantír. He scorned the idea of searching for happier, more hopeful things, having given them up for what he believed was a dark reality. However, finding joy and wonder in every place doesn’t have to be something strictly for children. That’s how stories are born, isn’t it? 

Even tales as fantastical as The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings have roots in the trenches of World War I.

I began to think about Sam. This character was made by Tolkien to represent the fellow soldiers he met in the war — the “common men” who led simple lives until they were brought out to fight. Tolkien admired their bravery and spirit in the midst of it all, so much so that he immortalized their memory in a now much beloved character. So what did Sam do when he returned from his own journey, with the rest of life ahead of him?

The lesson

“You have so much to enjoy and to be, and to do,” Frodo said to Sam. And so he did. He returned to what he loved by raising and caring for new gardens; he mustered the courage to marry his love interest and started a family; and he ensured that the deeds performed by his friends and himself would be remembered for ages. Sam did all of that while living in the Shire, and I think we can learn from that.

Although I had a grand adventure like Bilbo and felt anguish afterwards somewhat like Frodo (he had it worse), I don’t have to take off to somewhere new — at least not yet. Studying abroad was a wake-up call for the fact that I simply wanted to break out of my everyday routines. 

I take different routes to classes, I stop rushing to appreciate the serenity of nature, I’m trying to become more of a morning person. I imagine myself in different kinds of careers and get more excited than scared. I try to spend more time with the friends I made at home and abroad because being alone isn’t as cool as it used to be. I have enough to do here, guided by the confidence and independence and friendship that I cultivated overseas.

So go on that adventure! Chase down the departing wizard and his band of dwarves if you must. No one knows what you’ll end up finding or learning (or what you’ll have to do to make it back safely). What is certain is that it will be an experience unlike any you’ve had before, and it will also come to an end. But when it does, it’s okay to feel sad about it. 

As Gandalf has said before and would probably tell you as well, “I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.” Just remember to keep going, or you’ll miss what may come next. The road goes ever on and on.

Whenever my next journey begins, expected or not, I will take it. Or perhaps I will be living a calmer lifestyle, in which case I will be finding the magic in the everyday. Whatever happens, though, I will always be glad to greet an old friend should they stop by my door.