4 Surprising Things I Learned About Better Work-Life Fit

Insights from using the city as my office

The places and spaces we use for our work life (and life life) play a major role in a healthy and happy existence. And, so, I’ve spent the last few weeks conducting an unscientific experiment. I challenged myself to go beyond my apartment and the local cafe for my work and, instead, use a broad range of spaces and places in my neighborhood. I sat under a tree, visited the local library, crashed on a climbing gym couch, stumbled into a bar (it was 10am), hosted a meeting at a restaurant, attended lunchtime panel talks at a non-profit event space, and sketched for a few minutes while waiting my turn at the barbershop. Some of these places were designed to accommodate some form of work activity like writing, researching, and designing. Other spaces I visited were not intended for work activities at all.

The current trend in corporate work environments designed to mimic urban landscapes (think: Google’s bowling alleys and Facebook’s enormous green space roof) prompted my question: Can our cities’ neighborhoods support a digital economy worker’s full range of activities just as well as progressive corporate offices? Here are my thoughts after a few weeks.

First, the bad

1. I had to go out of my way to string together an appropriate set of environments to support my work on a given day.

It required doing research ahead of time and planning travel modes and routes. I had to think through the amenities I needed and verify they were offered. This often raised questions and challenged for my work experience. Does the library branch down the street offer wifi? What kind of seating does the climbing gym have, if any? Will I be more comfortable sitting in the grass in the shade or on a park bench in the direct sunlight?

Some days I simply couldn’t get the planning done before my mind had already shifted into work mode and most of my mental energy was directed at accomplishing a work task. Once that happened it was often simply too difficult to turn back to planning and the rest of my day was spent wherever I happened to be — often at home or at the nearest café.

2. Days with a solid plan also ended with mixed results.

For example, on a day when I needed to carry out some design work requiring intense concentration, I also needed a bit of inspiration. For the inspiration, I knew I wanted to break out of my familiar surroundings, but for the actual design tasks, I knew I would need a quiet environment. I settled on a schedule that would start outdoors near Lake Merritt and end at a small local branch library.

After a short walk around Lake Merritt (the inspiration part) in search of a good place to enjoy the outdoors, and do some preparatory research on my laptop, I realized the prospect of working in the open air is not as appealing as it first seems. Most of the park benches were in direct sunlight making laptop work difficult. I eventually settled for a spot under a tree (and relatively distant from roving geese) only to discover that the public wifi network was out of range.

When you’re using diffuse urban resources to support your work, you’re often left without a key element of successful output: predictability.

A few hours later I arrived at the Lake Merritt Branch Library to knock out some designs with promised delivery times. Having never been to this particular branch, or to any library in a shockingly long time, I found it not to be the concentrative environment I expected. Children occupied most of the space, and the table next to me was hosting a job interview (I tried to no avail to stop myself from eavesdropping).

Over the last few weeks, I found most of the places were not what I expected them to be. Sometimes they weren’t great for supporting work at all, sometimes they just supported different activities than planned. I found myself fighting for the tables next to the outlets, wondering if restrooms were available, fighting with early closing hours (3pm at the local bar/cafe), and a lack of suitable meeting space.

When you have an office, you know where you’re supposed to be when you’re working. It sounds simple but it’s a fact that actually saves a lot of cognitive capacity. It’s a little like Mark Zuckerberg deciding to wear identical t-shirts and hoodies every day to avoid the outlay of precious and limited mental resources. When you’re using diffuse urban resources to support your work, you’re often left without a key element of successful output: predictability.

Now, the good

3. The most positive experiences were the moments of unexpected inspiration and connection.

Working from the library connected me to carefree childhood summer afternoons. One Friday afternoon I ended my week with a few emails and a beer at a local brewery. The barrier between work and life seemed less imposing when catching up on writing at the local climbing gym was followed by a satisfying workout. Attending lunchtime events at Spur’s Oakland office introduced me to potential collaborators and allowed me to reconnect with old acquaintances. The inspiration came from people, places, and nature in my neighborhood that I hadn’t noticed before. And during these last few weeks I’ve felt a deepening connection with my local community.

When we spend more time in public places we open ourselves up to many more connections and inspirations.

The same is less true, in my experience, when our work takes place far removed from the communities where we live. Our corporate office environments, while they replicate many of the amenities of urban space, are not public space. Consequently, when we spend more time in public or semi-public places (like those offered by small businesses) we open ourselves up to many more connections and inspirations.

4. An immature but growing infrastructure of technology tools, institutions, and attitudes plays a significant role in facilitating an office-free work experience.

My experiment would have been impossible without collaboration technologies, educational platforms, and support systems. iPhone apps allowed me to research amenities on-the-go, Slack allowed me to collaborate with colleagues, and CodeAcademy let me learn new skills wherever I happened to be. As I’ve acknowledged before some of these tools can contribute to negative outcomes, but this, for the most part, happens when they are paired with outdated norms and attitudes.

While I felt challenged by the logistics of the experience, it also left me feeling optimistic about the opportunity for things to work better. I became aware of a disassociation that characterized my office-bound work life. During the experiment I felt more able to take breaks, to run personal errands, and conversely, to let my work creep into my personal time — as when I sketched while waiting my turn at the barber — in a way that did not feel destructive to my personal time.

So what?

It’s important to note that what I learned applies only to my narrow life and work experience. However, several widespread trends mean working outside the office is an experience that requires more nuanced attention. A rising emphasis on the importance of mental and emotional health in contrast to old-school standard of living metrics, the growing ranks of freelancers, and the boom in co-working facilities continue to change our conception of the workplace as a physical office building.

When workers don’t have to go to the office to do their work, where will they choose to be?

— Gabe Klein

The point at which all these trends converges is still uncertain, but the question is clear. As Gabe Klein, an urban innovation expert, asked at a recent Spur event, “When workers don’t have to go to an office to do their work, where will they choose to be?”