Updates and thoughts on kindness
I can't quite believe how quickly the weeks are going. I looked at the date this morning and did a bit of a double take – being forced to slow down physically has done absolutely nothing to slow down time itself, which feels frankly unfair.
I've been struck this week by how much kindness is out there, in both actions and words. I've had messages from people I've met only once, asking how they can help. A fellow hiker I barely know turned up at my door with flowers and what he described as a "British care package" – fancy butter, cheese, quince jam, bread, and marmite, because apparently even an ankle injury doesn't excuse being deprived of marmite.
I think a lot of the time people just need an excuse to be kind. It's not that the kindness wasn't there before, it's that being visibly a bit broken gives people permission to act on it. I've had so many conversations with strangers that started with "what happened?" and ended with me learning their entire life story. Vancouver's Uber drivers, in particular, have become unlikely best friends. One in particular (Dave) told me I'm very strong, both physically and mentally. It has sort of become my new mantra.
Continuing the theme of minor bodily betrayal, Anna's been ill this week too (which almost certainly wasn't helped by her standing out in the cold rain for five hours trying to get me down a mountain). When she hasn't been looking after me, she's been asleep. It's felt a bit like the universe decided to take away our respective superpowers at exactly the same time... Anna's ability to talk, and my ability to walk. Perhaps this is the universe's idea of balance, as I don't currently have the means to escape her yapping. (Anna that was a joke - your yapping is one of my favourite things about you).
I feel genuinely grateful to be part of a work environment that doesn't push you to keep going when you're down. Our supervisors have been endlessly understanding, actively encouraging us to prioritise our wellbeing over showing up regardless. I really appreciate the culture of not being made to feel like you have to earn your rest.
What I'm learning
This week has been a real practice in staying positive and keeping on top of my own head. I am, it turns out, not remotely good at sitting still. My chin-up challenge is progressing nicely as a small consolation, and I've been working through a stack of books I've wanted to read for ages. Currently it's a book on the philosophy of walking, which (predictably) is mostly succeeding in making me want to get back out into the mountains rather than teaching me to enjoy standing still.
Even without working (in the internship sense) very much this week, I feel like I've learned a lot. I'm learning to slow down, and to try to be present in the moment instead of rushing off to the next one. I'm learning to let other people take care of me. I'm learning that showing others vulnerability helps you feel more open and connected, not less. I'm learning that a lot of beer and a pair of crutches probably isn't the best combination. And I'm learning that maybe Dave was right. I can be strong.
I am a first year student reading Human Sciences at St Catherine's College Oxford and am a Laidlaw research scholar in association with the SDG Impact Lab for 2025
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Tilly, this is a beautifully written reflection. I am glad that, amid the pain and disruption, you have encountered so much kindness — from close friends, colleagues, near-strangers and Vancouver’s apparently exceptional community of Uber philosophers. The British care package was particularly well judged; recovery without Marmite would clearly have been an unreasonable additional hardship. That said, I am shocked that the package did not include tea!
Your observation that people sometimes need 'permission' to be kind is spot on. A visible injury makes need recognisable and gives others an obvious way to respond. The leadership challenge is perhaps to cultivate the same attentiveness towards people whose difficulties are less visible, or who find it harder to ask for help. How do we create environments in which care does not depend upon someone first becoming visibly 'broken'?
I happy to workplace culture suits you and to hear that rest does not have to be earned. That culture does not arise automatically: it is created through the messages supervisors send, the behaviour they model and the decisions they make when well-being and productivity come into tension. Encouraging you and Anna to recover is not separate from good leadership; it is an expression of it.
Learning to receive care can also require its own form of courage. Vulnerability disrupts the idea that strength means constant independence or usefulness. Your experience suggests that strength can also involve acknowledging limits, trusting others and allowing relationships to become more reciprocal.
Please continue to give both yourself and Anna permission to recover—and ensure that the chin-ups and other proposed adventures remain consistent with your medical advice. Your conclusion is convincing: Dave was right. You can be strong, although this week may be expanding your understanding of what strength looks like.
P.S. I am pleased that empirical investigation has established the incompatibility of beer and crutches. No replication study is required.