It’s been seven months since I last really sat at my desk – either in my previous apartment with the view I last shared, or in general. It’s been seven months of change—a new job, new apartments, new routines. And then, in the past seven days any semblance of normalcy and routine has been completely upended, and I’ve found myself back at this desk, albeit with a different view, adjusting to the new norm of working from home (which I’m exceptionally grateful for).
There have been frequent moments of pause throughout this week—moments where my eyes wander to the new paths being traced on the street two floors below me, while I too try to find my footing. Up until yesterday the coffeeshop across the street from me was open for takeaway orders, and I would watch as patrons popped in during their walks to get something warm to cup in their hands during a time when the warmth of holding hands or shaking hands can no longer be practiced. Here and now a cup of coffee offers a sip of comfort and comradery. And I shared in that small moment of caffeine compatriotism three floors up, as I sipped on coffee made from my french press.
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Books have always been my ballast and balm during moments of certainty and uncertainty, but right now neither my eyes or brain can focus on reading, so instead I’ve turned to music, my playlist set to shuffle. Throughout the hours I try to work songs I’ve long forgotten wend through my apartment reminding me of times and places past. And when I’ve found that I’ve been sitting still for too long, I turn the music louder while turning and twirling around my apartment—a circle dance of a different sort that orbits not with or around other people but around the central points of my coffee table and fireplace, kitchen island and loft ladder.
At the end of the day I move to the windowsill at the other end of my apartment, sometimes to write, frequently to eat dinner, and sometimes just to sit and see how routines unfold from that point of view. It’s a small thing—a small move, a small change in scenery, an impossibly small routine, but that’s what we have right now. We are finding and carving out new spaces in our respective corners of the world, and finding new ways to overlap with one another, even from afar.