Intention with a View

Now that Kara and I are living in the house that books built, we each have some decisions to make. Most of it comes down to furniture, and placement of that furniture, and whether to make do with just what we have or try to upgrade things. There are pieces we need that are missing from our inventory, but it’s kind of tough to decide on what to get, when, and for how much.

Moving is expensive.

But it’s even tougher to decide on the where things go part, for me. Kara has a knack for designing a room, and being very intentional about it. But I’ve always been a bit more (to use her term) '“hodge-podge” about it. I kind of like finding things at flea markets or resale shops, even the occasional curb rescue, and putting it to work in my space. I think I have a definite design aesthetic. But yeah… hodge-podge probably fits.

But I have one thing going for me: I have Kara. She’s helping me figure it out and keep things straight.

An issue we’re dealing with, at the moment, is my very strong desire to have my desk face the window.

I love my view. My office is on the second floor of our home, and I get a wide, sweeping vista to look up to, as I work. It’s wonderful. I can see for miles, and it’s refreshing. And inspiring.

There are some issues, though. For example, around 2PM the sun shines directly into this window, and it makes seeing my screen kind of tough. I can’t get the brightness bright enough to compensate for all the backlighting. And we don’t yet have shades that can help (those come in a few weeks).

But that’s temporary, in all the ways. It’s just a couple of hours on any given day. Maybe three, total. I can tough that out, until the screens arrive and I have a barrier to pull down.

The other problem, though, is that view.

Not the view itself, really. That’s amazing and I love it. But it’s the fact that I want that view that is giving me a difficulty to deal with.

Basically, I’m working from my laptop’s 13” display. This size makes the laptop very portable and comfortable to use in the wild. But it’s not a lot of screen real estate to work with. It would be nice to have a larger monitor.

And I definitely can have a larger monitor. I have a couple just sitting around, waiting. Screens I’ve used in the past. I even have a swing arm I can use to mount the screens to my desk. But if I use any of that, then… no view. In which case I might as well put my desk in a corner.

It’s amazing what I’ll put up wiht in the name of having this view. I fought hard for it. I waited for it. Yearned for it. This view was the main reason I was excited about the house in the first place. Which, I know, sounds weird. But I’m very responsive to light and landscape. I like seeing all the trees and green and blue sky. I like looking out over my neighborhood and seeing life there. It’s a recharge for me. A massage for my soul.

Now, I could put the desk in a corner of the office that lets me still have windows on my left and my right. I would still be able to look out at the world. It just wouldn’t be this view. I’d have a giant screen in front of me, but that would be all I could glance up to see. Everything else is a turn of the head, a shift in perspective that requires intention, that takes me instantly away, out of productivity and into something else.

See, having this view means I can glance up any time. I can notice things. I can be inspired with a look.

Shifting so that the view is something I have to intentionally look at in order to see it means that I lose that spontaneity. I lose the discovery.

It’s a very serious thing.

You may be wondering what this has to do with anything. You who are readers of my work may not care one bit what my view is. Writers who come here for advice and insight may wonder when I’ll get to making some sort of point.

All I can tell you is that this is part of my universe. Part of the ingredients of my work. Like all writers, I have to live in this world as I create other worlds. And so, it matters. Designing my space is important to me, because what I create is important to my readers.

So it’s no small thing.

But it’s also not the end of the world.

If I have to move my desk in order to accommodate being more productive, then that’s what I have to do. I’ll work out another way to enjoy the view. I’ll adapt.

But I can take my time about it. I can ponder it, be advised on it, and be intentional about it.

That, in and of itself, is the best gift I can give myself.

Be intentional.

In office planning, as in life, intention is the key to discovering and experiencing the best version of yourself.