I've been a most neglectful blogger lately - you might have noticed. Not for lack of wanting to sit down and write, and not for want of things to write about. My notebook has a stack of ideas hastily scribbled down.
But life, as they say, has intervened: family dramas, primal Spring cleaning, Kindergarten holidays, bursts of creativity that need to be followed, sunny picnics on the front lawn. Eeep! Still, I think I'm right to prioritise these things. Sometimes blogging, like work, ought to take a back seat.
It's easy to get into a bit of muddle about what's important and necessary - everything seems important and necessary when you're in a hurry, without the time to truly stop and reflect. It takes time to unwind and reassess patterns. Nothing has helped me sort out my priorities like this year spent recovering from serious illness. I wouldn't recommend it, but it has its upside: I'm no longer deferring decisions.
A friend asked me the other day if I fear getting sick again. It's in my mind, this possibility, but I don't fear it in the same way. I know that I will die someday - that's a fact - but I do worry about not having lived well.
When I was sick, I knew that I was living most of life well. With one exception: work. My natural aptitudes hadn't lead me down a path to which I was well-suited, even with supportive and friendly colleagues.
Now ten months down the track, this is where my thinking has taken me: the home office. I promise to blog about it in the future. Until then, if you'd like to, you can read about my reflections as a Generation X employee in today's MyCareer section of today's The Age or Sydney Morning Herald. Or online here, (unfortunately, without the print copy's cool illustration). Here's a taster:
'It's also almost a year since I last stepped foot in a corporate, grey, silent and glassy office, in favour of the home office. And I keep asking myself: what's changed, for the better or worse? What are the things I miss most about the violent jolt of working in a city office? It's not the decor or the professional dress, or the overheating in winter and freezing in summer.'
(Photo source: Wiki Commons)
Give me a home office any day, Ruth. But since I left that sort of employment over twenty five years ago, I can still say I miss the tea room conversation.
ReplyDeleteThat's probably one reason why I blog, for a version of tea room conversation. My blogger companions take the place of colleagues.
I probably left the outside office behind for the same reason as many - to care for children from home and I have been fortunate that I have been able to work from home, but if you saw my writing room, my home office, you might shudder.
I'm sure my work office outside was never so messy.
As for the shock of illness causing a rethink on how you live your life, I can commiserate with you, though my broken leg could not be half so bad as your illness earlier this year.
From what I read of your blog I sense you have gone from strength to strength since the beginning of the year.
It seems to me too that you and Damon now manage so many wonderful publications in The Age, it's awesome.
Congratulations.
Bloggers, on the whole, are a friendly bunch, aren't they? I've been fortunate to meet quite a few here, even though I've only dipped my toe into the world of blogs!
ReplyDeleteMy bedroom-corner-home-office is always in the process of being cleaned-up - I can never keep it neat. I have to keep on top of it, or I lose all surface space.
You're right, Elisabeth, this year has been a fascinating one for me: letting go and seeing where it takes me (easier to say than do).
I hope your leg is better, and that there's been at least a little silver lining amongst the hail!
I read your piece in The Age this morning (deferred for the weekend time with family) and sense I great connection with your writing.
ReplyDeleteAfter an expected recent redundancy, I have accidentally fallen into consultancy work which I do from my home office (currently on the deck).
It's early days but I am grateful for the flexibility and time it provides me with my little family. I endlessly reflect on the benefits and try not too anticipate the things I will miss.
Thank you for sharing your experience.. Change in any way that it appears is fascinating.
I wish you the very best,
Inbar
Thanks for dropping by, Inbar. So gratifying to hear that what I wrote felt true for you too. Best wishes with your newly-flexible, outdoor office. Enjoy!
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