Looking out the window

The Dean of the School of Psychology came up to the third floor last week. Giving the rare presentation to students he left his corner, 1st floor office and found himself peering into my small shared office.

"How are things up here?" He asked. We shrugged and mumbled some string of words expressing our relative okay-ness.

"Wow, you guys sure have the view!"

We nodded, because you are supposed to agree with the Dean of the School of Psychology and smiled.

Usually Janneke (my coworker) and I feel bad for ourselves, alone on the third floor. The rest of the staff team on the 1st floor. The physical distance is difficult and isolating. But the consistent staring at papers, documents, and especially computer screens has left me ignoring the window.

Being on the third floor means a view over towards North East Pasadena, the hills in the background. And as I look now I can see the mountains behind, the air cleared up by all of the rain. Clouds are gliding across the sky in numbers, tracing patterns Los Angeles usually is not blessed to see.

The wind is carrying them into the east and I sit, behind sealed windows, for once enjoying their slow, peaceful and inexorable movement away from me. This picture is one I don't usually enjoy. I take neither the time nor the energy to sit and watch. In the midst of my frenetic and harried work days looking out the window either feels wasteful or a mockery of my place in front of screen glare and the physical bureaucracy of paperwork.

The sun continues to set and the clouds lose their brilliance, at least for now. Until tomorrow, as long as the rain lingers and the sky will again light up with beauty from the interplay of light and dark, clouds and sky. And I will continue to watch from behind sealed windows. I will sit and watch and wonder whether to feel the somber loss of my sterile environment or sit in thankfulness that I get to see anything at all.