Sometimes things in life get ‘squished’. Since having a baby, we’ve had to move things around in our home and shift our routines. Everything is transient. New. Changed. And for a little while, my office has been relegated to this little basket, hidden by the side of the sofa.

But that’s OK.

I do miss my beautiful desk. How neat it was. Devin the puppet, perched on the side. Notes stacked. Reference books propped open at just the right page. Old school pinboard mapping out where I need to go. But for now, we don’t have the room, and so my writing desk got ‘squished’.

But it’s having not all bad. Having it beside where I sit means I can quickly write down a few ideas while little R snoozes. Or in the rare moments when little N is happily playing by himself.

And while the space for my career has shrunk to the size of a large shoebox, I’m still a writer. Still an author. Still doing what I love. Finding a way when things are different, and a new balance needs to be struck. Because when you’ve found something that is utterly you, you should never lose it, no matter how difficult it might be to find a space for it in your life.

No matter where you write – sofa, bus, cafe, or studio – you are what you do, not where you do it.