When I started taking fiction writing classes, one of the books that was recommended as a classic, must-read was Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg. One of the book’s take-aways was the value of writing in coffee shops — like she did in Santa Fe. It helped the sometimes lonely work of a writer to be surrounded by others Some of that escape to coffee shops was a way to escape the mundane, ongoing chores of daily life that were ever-present at home.

When I was working, I’d sometimes stop by a coffee shop on the way home to unwind and to work on my next writing submission. I also loved finding quaint coffee spots when I was traveling — especially those eclectic, Bohemian ones that had mismatched furniture and old book cases with stacks of donations and handwritten signs that said “Take One.”

Since I’ve retired, I’ve found that it’s harder to go to coffee shops, easier to do my K-cup at home and much less expensive with today’s prices. I’ve gotten into a usual practice of writing at my kitchen table or sometimes sitting on my sofa. I have a writing desk but need a comfortable chair, so that space goes unused. Sometimes, I think “You need to mix it up”. Writing in a different place can bring a different perspective. So this week I visited several coffee spots in my area.

On Wednesday, I traveled back to Chapel Hill — where I’d worked a school nurse for many years. In between appointments, I wrote at The Root Cellar Cafe. There was a mix of ages and reasons for getting a cup of brew and/or one of the breakfast entrees. I had lots of memories of various friends I’d met there over the years; those memories were both welcomed and a distraction from my focus on my current work.

Yesterday I visited The Mission Market in Downtown Apex — not far from where I live. There was a younger clientele and many seemed to be working remotely. A table nearby had two women and a man working on an idea to present to their company. I eventually settled into my project, trying not to let the younger group add to my feelings of growing older and living in a very different world. I thought about the whole notion of working remotely as a nurse who’d mostly done direct care as I sipped the sweet, warm mocha the young barista had made.

Afterwards, I dropped into another coffee shop across the street, Common Grounds Coffee House, to see what it would be like for a future time. It had a similar clientele on a weekday afternoon and more spaces that were tucked away from the noise of the machines.

Leaving Downtown Apex, it occurred to me that sometimes doing other routine things in a different place can also give a different perspective. This doesn’t just apply to writing.

Years ago, in my first job as a school nurse, I served two elementary and one middle school. I had a basket of supplies in the trunk of my car for each school — my roving office and storage closet. It was a really warm day at the end of the spring semester and besides my school supplies, I’d crammed other things into my trunk. When I got home each day, and over the weekend, I had too many things to do to remember my car needed some care. Soon, my family would be going on a vacation and I needed that trunk cleared out.

I’d put the task off– like I did other things that were tedious and boring: office paperwork, going through mail, paying bills. But that afternoon when I was preparing to leave that elementary school, it occurred to me that I could start cleaning out the car, on the spot instead of waiting until I was home. There was a dumpster nearby and I could thin out the items for that school and leave them there. I’d parked in a pleasant place — with nearby pine trees offering shade and the edge of the woods with the warm fragrance of sunlight hitting dried pine straw. Without the lure of being at my house where I could go inside to a hundred other tasks, that crammed trunk had all my attention. Plus, I loved the feel of the air and the smell of that pine straw.

I focused on that one task and completed it in a relatively short period of time. It was a simple memory, but it stayed with me for a long time because it was instructive.

In 2015 when I took my Life Coaching Class with the Wisdom of the Whole (WOW) Academy, I remembered that afternoon cleaning out my trunk when we were taught an exercise to help clients. When clients were considering the various options in a decision, our case example “Bob” who couldn’t decided whether to move from California to the East Coast, space was used to help unlock the best choice. My instructor had Bob to stand in two different areas of the room that represented each place and consider questions about his feelings, his thoughts, his energy, his body sensations, his spirit, or sense of purpose. Bob considered the difference in how he felt in each location symbolically represented with his switch in room position. Then, the instructor brought in the potential for a new option when she had him go to a new place in the room.

This may sound hokey, but I used it with a client once and she found it helpful. She reported that she felt more relaxed with a resulting energy serge when she looked at her options in a new way. After the exercise she was able to move forward with her decision.

You may not be a writer or a Life Coach, but changing where you do things may have value for you. I’ve seen folks knitting in coffee shops and reading underneath trees in the park. Taking a walk when you have an important decision can shift things with the calming rhythm of nature. Staying in the “same old place” may keep us in the “same old way” of doing things. Why not shake things up by moving to a new place and a new way of seeing; we never know what we might discover.

Best to you,

Connie