What Returning Asks of Us
On friction, ceremony, and becoming someone new before February 23, 2026.
Microsoft is setting a return to office expectation of three days a week beginning February 23, 2026. That is the fact on the calendar.
What interests me more is everything that happens around it.
Returning means going back to co‑working space. Other people. Other conversations. More ambient noise. More distractions. Not that home was ever distraction‑free, but it came with less friction. Less distance between waking up and doing meaningful work. For a long time, many of us learned how to roll out of bed, settle into a chair, and start building with very little ceremony.
Returning reintroduces ceremony. And friction.
That friction shows up first in the commute. Depending on who in my family needs a ride or a drop‑off, my drive ranges from sixty to ninety minutes. That sounds heavy when written down, but most of that time is shared. It becomes an unexpected pocket of conversation and connection. A way to stay in touch while moving through life together. Then there is a smaller portion of time alone, where I start to prepare myself to engage with people again. To shift gears. To arrive.
I know that experience is not universal, but it is how this transition is landing for me.
I have been going back to the office a few days a week for a while now, partly to prepare for that shift. The very first thing I did was decorate my desk. I wanted a space where I felt like me. I covered my desktop in purple flowered wall decals. I started slowly bringing toys back, the small objects that say this is not a temporary perch. I am making a space for myself inside a shared space.
That preparation mattered more than I expected. When we all went home in 2020, I was a different person. Six years has changed me. My work is different. My goals are different. The way I think about impact, energy, and how I want to spend my days has evolved. Returning now is not about going back to who I was then. It is about deciding how the current version of me wants to show up in this environment.
Returning is not just about being in a place again. It is about reconciling who we have become with the spaces we are re‑entering.
Transitions are often framed as moments. Announcements. Deadlines. Starts.
In practice, they land slowly. They show up in how we set up our desks, how we plan our mornings, how much energy it takes to be visible again. They settle into our bodies well before they show up in policy language or compliance expectations.
As February 23rd approaches, I am trying not to turn this return into a binary. For or against. Success or failure. Instead, I am paying attention to what it illuminates. Where people feel steadier. Where they feel stretched. What they are quietly grateful to keep, and what they are bracing themselves to lose.
I do not think the question is whether returning to the office is good or bad. I think the question is whether we will make room to notice what it costs, and for whom, and whether we will treat that noticing as meaningful work.
This is not a dramatic ending. It is not meant to be.
It is simply an acknowledgment that work reshapes our lives, and when the shape of work changes again, we feel it everywhere. Even when we are prepared. Even when we are finding our footing. Even when we are doing our best to make a shared space feel like our own.