Toys in the Attic

“All of the things that you learned from fears”

March 15th, 2020, was a gloriously sunny spring Sunday in Cleveland.  It was also the day I went to my workplace, packed up my desk, and moved into the attic.

This was the very attic that sold us on the idea of buying our current house back in 2006.  It’s a walk up attic with knotty pine paneling on the walls, and plenty of storage.  It’s essentially a third floor, but without duct work.  We had so many ideas for how we’d use it the first time we saw it.  I used it as my beer drinking and video gaming lair after we moved in.  But that was fleeting.  The attic was mostly a glorified storage area for seasonally inappropriate clothes.   And when the kids came along — kids clothes and other things.  If we had guests staying over, we’d put someone in the attic to sleep (“The Greg Brady Suite”).    

But when the pandemic hit, I found a new life in the attic.  What made the massive change of the pandemic bearable for me was finding a shred of stability.  And that stability was having an office in a place that was separated from the rest of the family.  I soon moved my music making gear into the attic too, so it was available for me to pick up and play whenever the urge compelled me.

As the pandemic wore on and school shifted to remote learning, the separation of the attic became even more important.  As co-workers of mine struggled with balance, I had my own space to call my own.  A set of steps I could climb and a door I could close to find some solace.

I realize that I’m fortunate enough to have a career that allowed me to weather a pandemic from the comfort of the attic.   But there’s a larger lesson here.

When change is happening — which it always is — find something that’s relatively stable.  And hold on to it with all your might.

Aerosmith — “Toys in the Attic”