The Commute

When I accepted my new role, a few people asked the same question.

"Isn't that a long way to travel?"

It is.

There are certainly easier commutes.

But over the past few months I've realised they were asking the wrong question.

The better question would have been,

"What kind of place are you travelling towards?"

For years I measured work by practical things.

The salary.

The title.

The distance from home.

The flexibility.

Those things still matter.

But they are no longer at the top of my list.

Now I find myself paying attention to something much quieter.

How do I feel when I walk through the front door each morning?

How do people speak to one another when nobody is trying to impress anyone?

Do people celebrate each other's success?

Can mistakes be discussed without fear?

Do I leave at the end of the day with more energy than I arrived with?

Culture is difficult to describe.

It is almost like walking into a home.

You know within a few minutes whether you can breathe there.

Every kilometre I drive has reminded me that proximity is not always the same as closeness.

Sometimes the shortest journey takes us somewhere that slowly diminishes us.

Sometimes the longer road leads us towards people who quietly help us become more ourselves.

I still enjoy coming home at the end of each day.

Perhaps even more than I used to.

Because a good workplace and a peaceful home are not competing with one another.

They are supporting one another.

One gives me meaningful work.

The other gives me meaningful rest.

Together they have taught me something I hope I never forget.

The places we spend our days quietly shape the people we become.

Perhaps the real measure of a commute is not how many kilometres it covers.

Perhaps it is whether the person who returns home each evening has become a little kinder...

a little lighter...

and a little more themselves.

— Sonia