Before, I left the house at sunup with a lunch bag on my wrist, a bagel wrapped in a paper napkin, and coffee in a travel mug. The book bag slung over my shoulder was filled with my laptop, student papers, and plans. Charts were readied at school. Home life was left to the weekends and breaks. My home desk was a place to store old plans and books to be read. The dining room table, living room, and bedroom were places that student papers and lesson plans seeped into.
Now, breakfast is consumed on a plate, My coffee cup has no lid. Lunch is in the fridge waiting for the 30 minute break when I walk from my office to the kitchen. My computer stays on my desk. Charged. Connected to the Elmo. Books surround me in my converted office space. All of my school world is in this 10 by 10 room. The empty tote bags hang on the door knob. My plan book sits beside me. Student papers and teaching charts are digital. At 8:40, twenty seven students beam in to my tiny space and we learn. This has been the now for nearly a year.
Now that my environment rarely changes, I have developed a deeper appreciation of my surroundings.
I’ve been waiting for what is now to change for some time. When I start to think about what will be, I stop myself and make a mental list of what I want to hold on to.
When what will be comes, I want to keep noticing the tops of the trees that show through the upper half of my office window. How the prayer plant opens up at first light and then closes as the living room darkens. The curve of a honey jar on the counter and the silly pleasure in ironed napkins.
To Read To Write To Be 
Yes, there is a lot of value to holding on to the here and now and this time has certainly made us appreciate things we previously ignored. I LOVE the detail you gave to your space. I could see you sitting there.
The image of the empty tote bag sticks out to me. I couldn’t imagine working from home for an entire year. You painted a clear contrast form what was and what is. “When what will be comes…” you are wise to think about what you will take from this experience. I often think about what this year has taught us- so much.
The now for all teachers reverberates across classrooms. The details you share show an incongruity in small spaces crowded w/ things yet empty of students in the flesh. Maybe the noticing will stay w/ us. I hope. Your last paragraph transforms noticing into art.
Great slice! I really liked this line, “twenty seven students beam in to my tiny space and we learn.” Really gave this great vision in my mind of how the “classroom” happens now.
Oh my, the contrast in this piece of writing, and also the gratitude and appreciation for both ends of the spectrum. The coffee is a big one for me. On the days I work from home, I’m SO appreciative of the mug and the steamed milk. But I also love the trees, and Julieanne– the image of that plant opening and closing! Wow.
What everyone before me has said already goes double for me on this not-yet-daylight morning as I sip hot water to delay that almighty first sip of coffee for a bit. Let it be—all of it.
You have described the differences of this time so well, and also you have found the things here worth noticing and remembering. What will be will come, and you won’t forget what was, I’m sure.
I did enjoy my time at home last spring. I love the simple things you want to hold on to, especially ironed napkins. I never iron napkins. But I do love the idea of them and how it feels like such a thing that can be controlled.
Life changed in a blink of an eye and it will do it again and again. Hold on to what is near and dear to you.
Thanks for capturing your setting and the moment. This has been my wife’s life for nearly a year, while I feel like my plan and location change constantly this year. But yes, que sera sera and what will be will come later.