The More Things Change

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While working on last week's posts, I came across this one and it struck me how similar things feel now with all of the newness of online instruction. Not too long ago, I changed offices at work, and I even got to personalize the space a little. I'm now part of a suite of offices populated by colleagues who are fun and I'm looking forward to revisiting that office soon. But, for now, my office is just off my living room, my wardrobe is at-home casual, and I still don't miss those inservices.

When I retired from public education, I knew there would be things I wouldn't miss. Early morning meetings. Faculty meetings. Irrelevant inservices. (Are you sensing a theme?)

But it didn't take me long to realize that there's one thing I do miss: an office.

I also miss the people and the parts of the job I loved, of course, but I expected that. I didn't expect a small, cluttered room with hand-me-down furniture to leave a void.

At first, being able to work at home -- anywhere I wanted -- was exciting. Tired of sitting at a desk? Move to the sofa. Tired of the sofa? Relocate to the dining room table. Sick of the house, or just plain distracted? Head over to Starbucks.

The wardrobe was better, too. Well, not better quality or more professional -- just cheaper and more comfortable. Sweatshirts and pj bottoms were de rigeur and makeup was optional.

I'm not sure why it surprised me to discover that adjusting to this new lifestyle also required adjusting my perception of who I was. For 27 years, I'd been a professional educator and a semi-professional writer. My new work environment and wardrobe, though functional and comfortable, didn't feel like professional anything. And even though articles and books got written and edited, classes got planned and correspondence got sent -- all amid the comforts of home -- the lack of a traditional workspace, though romantic and freeing in theory, made the limbo created by an early retirement less gap than chasm.

A year into this adventure, I was hired as an adjunct professor, adding a new role to the midlife collage, and bringing with it an unexpected bonus.

Office hours.

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Once a week, for an hour, I pulled an office chair up to an L-shaped desk in a shared room with little to offer in the way of decor -- a far cry from the crazy quilt of animal prints and bright colors that had been my home base in an elementary school across town.

And I loved it.

Three semesters later, my course load has grown and with it, my office hours. I'm required to offer an hour for each course I teach, but I typically spend more time in the office than that. It's peaceful -- mostly -- and the academic atmosphere fills a void I didn't expect to have, but that -- once again -- shouldn't have surprised me. After all, you can take the counselor out of the school, but, apparently, you can't take the school out of the counselor.

At home, I'm working on making my office less haphazard and more of a true workspace. My Wednesday posts (and new blog) on organization have nudged me toward more efficiency, as well as more personalization.

If Virgina Woolf is right, and "a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction," then I think, perhaps, I'm on the right track.

3 Things About Change

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Weeds or wildflowers?

It's been a time of change. My daughter came home for spring break, only to find out she wouldn't be going back to school for her final semester. The college where I teach opted to move to online classes for at least two weeks.
With social distancing as the norm, my car hasn't moved from the driveway since sometime last week, as I dig in here at home for work and for relaxation. Fear and a constantly evolving news cycle make change, as they say, the only constant.

Most of us aren't entirely fond of change. But change brings with it opportunity.

Opportunity to appreciate. Often, change gives us the opportunity to appreciate what we had but, sometimes, it surprises us, and we discover that we appreciate the new normal. I love getting to know my students, so I love face-to-face-teaching. But online teaching? I don't hate it. It definitely has possibilities.

Opportunity to improve. There is no better way to decide what will be (if, in fact, we get to choose) than to first examine what is and what was. When we get stuck in our routines, we sometimes close off those avenues of exploration. Whether we choose change or are forced into it, we gain an opportunity to examine both our options and our experiences.

Opportunity to lighten up. Speaking of routines...I'm not a big fan of mine being thrown out the window. I'm both stressed and annoyed, for example, that I didn't get to this blog post until 9 PM when I have quite literally been home all day. But, you know what? In the scheme of things (or, to use my friend Ann's time frame, in ten years), it won't matter what time I posted this. So, why should it be a big deal now?

Pezibear via Pixabay

This is, indeed, one of those times when the change itself is less upsetting than the reason for it. We can choose to fight it, for the sake of clinging to what we know, or we can look around and consider the possibility that the change itself might be more welcome than we anticipated.

Sometimes, change is a weed, unwelcome and running roughshod over the ground around us. Other times, it's a wildflower, a bright spot in a gray landscape.

It's up to us to decide.