Dean Sas

Remote work means I could work anywhere. Most days I choose the same place. Occasionally, I choose not to.

I like my office. It’s quiet, predictable, and set up exactly how I want it. Despite that, once a week I pack up my laptop and go somewhere else. A recent post from Henrique about his workspace sanctuary nudged me into thinking about this more deliberately.

The best thing about my office is that it doesn’t demand attention. It’s uncluttered and tidy but without being minimalistic. Everything has its place, and it’s there deliberately. My chair is positioned so that everything is within reach and my ergonomics are dialled in enough that my body fades into the background. It doesn’t take long after sitting down for everything to recede so I can focus fully on my screens.

Sometimes I need to gaze and think. Spinning to the side and looking out of the window lets me do that, and gives my eyes a change. Gazing out of the window I can see birds perching on saplings, cats prowling along fences and further away a constant flow of cars, bikes and people.

It’s a space that works well for me. I can concentrate fully and peacefully there. And yet, once a week or so, I feel a quiet yearning to leave.

When I get that feeling, I slip my laptop into my bag and leave behind my favourite keyboard and mouse. Working for Automattic means no one’s tracking where I sit and when – I just go. Depending on where I’m going and how urgent I feel about work in that moment, I make a choice to walk or cycle. I go to the nearby canal towpath and rather than turning towards the busy town centre – with its choice of busy cafes and quiet library – I go the opposite direction. It’s slightly longer and has less choice, but I really value moving alongside the quiet canal. As my attention shifts outwards, I notice ducks quarrelling or a heron patiently waiting by the water. Sometimes there’s a canal boat going through the lock, and I can’t resist stopping to watch.

Eventually I leave the canal behind and arrive into the hubbub of a cafe or hotel lounge – cups clinking, people chattering and moving around. I grab a coffee, choose my table and settle in. The background noise settles into something supportive rather than distracting.

I don’t leave because my office stops working. Sometimes it works too well. I feel removed from the world outside my window. Time slips past unnoticed until people start to arrive home. I leave so I can feel connected to where I am and take part in it, rather than having it pass me by.

Working at home lets me focus intensely. I can get my head down and lose myself in work. Working elsewhere feels different. I can still focus, but I feel more grounded. I notice life happening – friends meeting, people studying, frazzled parents and energetic kids. Sometimes I bump into someone I know, or exchange a few words with a stranger. Even a smile, or the nod of a head can change how the day feels.

I still choose the same place most days. I love my office sanctuary. But occasionally I choose differently. The office feels different after I’ve been elsewhere, just as the outside world feels different after time spent at home.