1: Rachel Barr‘s experience at college wasn’t great.
“After a string of unfulfilling jobs left me yearning for more, I ventured into university life a little later than my peers,” she writes in her book How to Make Your Brain Your Best Friend: A Neuroscientist’s Guide to a Healthier, Happier Life.
“It was supposed to be a fresh start,” she notes.
It wasn’t.
“Soon into my undergraduate degree, I realized sports science wasn’t a good fit, but I slogged through anyway,” Rachel writes. “I struggled to make friends or keep my bank balance above zero, but I made it to the end.”
Next up, she was accepted into a master’s program in molecular neuroscience. She was excited because this new path forward played to her interests and skills.
“Sports coaching and being surrounded by people all day? Not for me,” she recalls. “Reading studies and science textbooks, on the other hand, now you’ve got my attention!”
“How hard can it be?” Rachel remembers thinking as she walked into her first class.
Then, the students began introducing themselves.
“I’ve been working as a psychiatrist for four years already, I’m here to deepen my understanding of neurobiology,” said one student.
“Similar for me,” answered another, “I finished my medical degree a few years ago, and I’m looking to build my skills so I can specialize in intensive care eventually.”
Huh? “Psychiatrist? Medical degree? What’s next,” she wondered, “Nobel Prize winners? NASA engineers?!”
One student after another shared their impressive academic backgrounds. Rachel was the last to speak.
“I tried not to blush as I explained my own journey,” she writes.
“Hmmmm,” one of the doctors replied, “and do you think sports science is a good starting point for a master’s in neuroscience?”
Rachel wished she were invisible.
Then, the professor started the lecture.
“It hadn’t occurred to me that without any foundation in neuroscience, I wouldn’t even have the vocabulary to understand what was being taught to me,” she explains. “It was three hours of mysterious abbreviations and diagrams that looked like pieces of different puzzles mixed together by accident.”
2: What followed was an intense academic journey in a course of study she wasn’t prepared for.
“It would be years before I got my diagnoses for autism and ADHD, which meant I had no framework to understand why conventional strategies for learning left me confused and overwhelmed,” Rachel shares.
“Studying drained all my time and energy,” she writes. “Stretched beyond my limits already, I struggled to maintain part-time work and keep my bills paid. My financial situation was so grim that paying for anything because a test of nerves. I’d say a small prayer every time I tapped or swiped my card, silently hoping it wouldn’t be declined.”
She also had challenges in her personal life. “I was stuck in the cycle of an on-again, off-again relationship with someone who capitalized on my loneliness and low confidence. I was gaslit, cheated on, belittled, and unloved.”
She thought about quitting and moving back home.
“Though my mom had always struggled with her mental health, she hadn’t really shown obvious signs of alcoholism until this point,” Rachel writes. “She was sinking fast, and it was heartbreaking to watch, even from a distance.
“Going home would have meant leaving one chaotic situation for another,” she shares. “So I stayed.”
The bottom line? “They were years of profound loneliness, heartache, and uncertainty. I knew that if I had any chance of happiness, it existed in some distant future I didn’t have access to yet.
“I couldn’t afford self-help books, but I’d spend hours skimming their pages in bookstores, hoping the sales assistants would ignore me for long enough to get through them:
“Set small, achievable goals”;
“Use the ‘Pomodoro Technique’ for improved focus”;
“Visualize success to enhance motivation.”
She reasoned that if she just kept hustling, she would get to a distant, but perhaps happier, future.
3: What saved her?
“Amid all that stress and struggle, my memories of that time are stitched together with snippets of something good,” she reasons, “not happiness; this was off the table—but something equally scrumptious.”
Delight.
“When I wasn’t hustling or dissociating in lectures, I could often be found at the You&Meow cat café,” Rachel explains.
“For £5, I could spend one hour sipping tea and fiercely defending my brownie from a clowder of lively cats, each one with its own unique strategy for delighting me.”
Some of her favorite felines included Casanova, “a burly orange and white tomcat, was known for seducing visitors by hopping onto their shoulders for a loud purring session.”
And “Aya, a long-haired caramel diva,” she recalls, “mastered the art of placing herself in highly inconvenient spots, hissing at anyone who tried to squeeze past her. She was not to be touched, but adoration in the form of words or treats was most welcome.”
Time spent there was a total delight, Rachel remembers. “Even now, as I write this, I can’t help but smile.”
In the evenings, she would visit The Canteen, “a Banksy mural-adjacent bar in Stokes Croft, the artsy Bristol neighborhood I lived in at the time,” she writes.
“I could order soup for next to nothing and enjoy a whole evening of live jazz any night of the week,” Rachel remembers.
“Or to Cafe Kino for figure drawing classes,” she explains, “not so much for the drawing itself, but for the delight of watching two women collect up everyone’s two quid and then whip off their clothes without the slightest hint of self-consciousness. Naked nonchalance is definitely delightful.” Weekends in the summertime were full of street parties and festivals as well as a neighbor who sold jerk chicken off his grill–“still one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten),” Rachel notes.
“Despite everything that was falling apart during my time living there,” she writes, “when I think of Bristol, I think of delight.
“That’s part of the magic,” she observes. “Delight buoys us through the tougher times of life, but it also softens the lens when we look back. It weaves itself into our memories in ways that enrich our life stories forever.”
More tomorrow.
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Reflection: When life feels overwhelming and happiness seems out of reach, where can I find pockets of delight to sustain me through hard times?
Action: Seek out one small experience this week—like a favorite café, good music, or a moment with a pet—that brings delight, and allow myself to fully savor it.
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