Every now and then on a Wednesday, I venture into the city to the office. Evolve (parent company of Mumtastic) is based in a warehouse conversion in Surry Hills. It sounds way cooler than it actually is, but it’s a lovely, light space and the people are awesome.
Whenever I plan to go in, it feels like such an inconvenience. Having to get a bit more dressed up in the morning than I usually do (which is to say getting dressed up at all), suddenly worrying that my nails need filing and my legs need shaving and I have no good lipsticks anymore. All the bits of being a woman that I usually ignore quite happily.
It annoys me that the shoes I like to walk in aren’t really office-ready, so I know I’ll walk to and from the station in shoes I’d rather look at. My feet will hurt, my bag will be heavy with my laptop and the hill up from the station is long and involved.
I know I’ll lose time on the commute and that the internet is slower at the office. Working away from my own desk, I’ll feel both restricted and adrift at the same time.
I’m cranky every time I think about it.
But I’m never cranky when I’m actually doing it.
When I’m actually doing it, I relish getting dressed up a little, feeling grown up and special in the morning instead of waiting for a weekend evening, some day.
I can do whatever I want on the commute. I don’t need to pack the time with emails or edits or anything much at all. Instead, I look out the window and wonder at the big wide world out there.
I laugh with my colleagues and eavesdrop on their conversations, enjoying the gossip about people I’ll never know and suburbs I’ll never live in. They’re a young crowd and I’m a mummed-up oddity, but they make me feel welcome and their stories remind me that life doesn’t begin when you become a parent.
At lunch time I walk through the inner suburb I lived in for many years. So much and so little has changed in the 20 years since I’ve been away. There’s still a gas smell outside #307 Crown Street, the big house I lived in for many years with a conveyor belt of interesting types. The Barberia is still a few doors down, a bike resting on the fence, freshly clothed in bright red, glossy paint. The neighbour’s fence hasn’t changed a bit.
I feel like I fit, but I’m quite certain I’m like the puzzle piece that looks right but needs forcing. It’s a strange sensation when you know a place so well and yet not at all. It’s a little bit like having my own time warp, where I’m hurtled back but no one can see me.
Today I bought my lunch from About Life. There’s one near my home as well but I’ve never had lunch there. I save buying lunch for my city days and it’s a treat all on its own. The walk through the neighbourhood, with all its life and noticing, is the icing on the treat.
Days like today remind me that the thought of doing something different is so much stickier than the actual doing. The reality of change is that it feels hard, but the landing is soft and vibrant. It inspires us and invigorates us and possibly reminds us how good we’ve got it back in our little comfort zone.
I think there are two kinds of joy in life: the kind that delights in the familiar; and the kind that is found only when we explore the unfamiliar.
I hope you have both kinds in your life too.
Bec Senyard says
Lovely post Bron. I’m definitely wanting to venture into the unfamiliar because lately I have been quite comfortable in the familiar. It’s nice to reflect back on where we’ve come from and to where we are now. And you know the exciting part? There is so much unfamiliar to explore in the future. And that makes me excited.
Maxabella says
The familiar is so snug and NICE that it’s so easy to forget that unsnug can be really, really nice. x
Helen K says
Love this, Bron! And I feel similar when going back to Fitzroy (lived just over the border in Fitzroy North for a while – although that’s usually for social reasons now (plus the occasional consultant meeting for work, so I guess a bit similar). It’s nice to shake yourself out of your comfort zone every now and again – makes you feel alive!
Maxabella says
Back in the old ‘hood sort of means we go back to the ‘old us’ and that’s really nice from time to time. x
Corinne says
I’ve been looking hard for a job (one where I’m not working from home). Even though it will be more difficult with the kids, I think I need to be in a workplace and have colleagues to settle into life in anew city and carve out a life for me away from the comfort (not many jobs for a writer/sub editor in Brissy, so not holding my breath).
I love familiarity but I love exploring the new too.
Maxabella says
I hope you find a good one, Corinne. It’s just as daunting to move back as it is to move away. I agree that a workplace is a good way to get back into finding your Aussie connections. It can’t all be about family and the kids’ school community! x
Clare says
This sounds like me! Often times I don’t want to do something, but once I am there and participating, I am enjoying it.
Your photos are lovely in this post too.
Thanks for reminding me, I need to shave my legs. I am sitting in my shorts looking like a yeti!!!
Maxabella says
It’s winter – that’s yeti season! And the photos are just iPhone snaps as I walked along, which just goes to show that the noticing really is everything. x
Zanni Hacska says
Oh I love Surry Hills! Good place to be located. It’s a wonderful thing to find beauty in the ordinary things around us, especially on an ordinary week day! Hope your new job is great x
Maxabella says
Old job now… I’ve been working here at Mumtastic for almost a year! Crazy, I know! But the office location is new and I’m loving being back in my old ‘hood from time to time. x
Rissa says
I work in Surry Hills, too. I hate catching the train to work, but I love dawdling up to my building, through all the little laneways and side streets, looking at all the funky little semis and hipster units. I think those walks make me feel less suburban soccer mum, and more like the trendy being I will never be!
Maxabella says
Yep, that’s definitely it. I used to think I was one of the inner-trendsters, but lately I’ve realised that was probably all in my head anyway!!! x
Alisa says
Oh Bron, I went on every step of this story with you. I have to admit I love and need change. It freshens everything up, colours are more vivid somehow. But it is a bitter sweet affair. And after having recently moved, again, I am feeling the cravings of my softer old home. You write so honestly and so beautifully. And always manage to reach the heart. Such a fan!
Maxabella says
You’ve totally made my day, Alisa. Thank you.
I hope your new house turns soft soon. I love that description of a home “soft'” It’s perfect. x
Vicki @ Knocked Up & Abroad says
It all sounds wonderful to me. Like being a real grown up. Then again, I’m held captive a little too much in my homes walls with little people so anything else does sound pretty good. In many ways going out in the real world, working and existing as a sole individual is completely foreign now but when I have my senses go into overdrive and delight noticing all the things I wouldn’t normally with kids, like you’ve described here. Life is full of contrasts. Always with hard bits and then rewarding bits almost wrapped up in one. Working life sounds to be suiting you x
Vicki @ Knocked Up & Abroad says
ps – I’ve got the flu so I think I’m doing a whole heap of rambling here.
Seana says
A lovely read on this slow grey day. I’m off to live in Orange for a couple of weeks and so looking forward to slow exploration and close looking. Xx