Editorial: #284

On Saturday evening, following a trip to Edinburgh, I stood at my train door awaiting my arrival at Leuchars station. Impatient, I carried out the customary glancing at the lights above, the floor below, and my fellow passengers waiting to disembark. I then studied a map of the ScotRail network, which bore a quote from Robert Louis Stevenson: “I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.” The quote resonated with me, not least because my trip was fuelled by the burning desire to escape the second wave of deadlines. I then decided I would base my editorial — which truly tests one’s creativity — around that quote and well, here we are.

The “great affair” of moving, according to Stevenson, is hard to apply to St Andrews; with three streets forming its town centre, it takes five minutes to walk from one side to the other. To escape, one looks to Dundee or Edinburgh, and spontaneously, accompanied by friend Lucy, I decided to head to the latter. With deadlines on my mind, I did a little work on the train in order to quell my rising academic guilt. However, following a wondrous session of lunching and gossiping, I reflected upon my decision to abandon my academic duties, and realised that enjoyment is worth far more than stress. Indeed, “the great affair” is to move. 

Now, I’m not saying to drop everything and flock to Ryanair in search of flights to Copenhagen, but rather that it's important not to sideline the things we love in periods of academic stress. Whether that be a trip to Toppings, a rummage round the charity shops, or even just a coffee with a friend, remember to cherish little moments of joy in hectic times. Your essay or your lab report will get done. With every issue of The Saint, Riley and I constantly feel a similar pressure of delivering. Each issue brings a new problem and yet everything works out in the end. 

It’s also incredibly important to look out for one another. Nonetheless, I admit it's very easy to get so wound up in deadlines that you forget about your relationships and that’s OK, we are all guilty of that. Everyone is in the same boat, but remember to check in and support your chums. Heck, read The Saint with one another! But for now, I’ll leave you with the words of another Scottish literary great, Iain Crichton Smith, from his poem ‘Neighbour’:

My neighbour, if the rain falls on you,

let it fall on me also

from the same black cloud

that does not recognise gates.

Enjoy Issue 284, it’s tremendous. David.