Sabbatical Notes: Pause, Reflect, & Look Towards the Future

Imagine waking up and having nothing on your schedule. All family, work and personal obligations are gone. No external forces dictating your time, no expectations to fulfill, no deadlines looming, no emails building up. It's just you, with no constraints, no predefined path to follow, and no fixed destination to return to. A space where your time is entirely your own, and the only agenda is your own intuition and desires.

Welcome to my fantasy.

Like many of us over the last few years, my brain started heading towards the “what if”. What if I just quit? What if I had only to wake up and do the things I want to do? What if I took time to discover who I am now and what I’m really good at?

So, I did. After hours of honest conversations with my spouse, networking, reflection, budgeting, saving, and planning, I quit. I finished strong with my employer, did my best to leave my team with support, celebrated the relationships and accomplishments, had a party and then- what?

Well. I've learned a lot.

Note 1: There will be a detox period. And I chose a very intense way to do it.

Intuitively, I knew I needed to take a break, carve out space to feel the feelings I have been bottling up and pushing through over the past ten years (maybe twenty, if I'm entirely honest). It wasn’t just the last job- my career pattern is one of burning out at one job and starting- the very next week- another. It was leading through the pandemic. And powering through as the sole breadwinner and caretaker of my spouse who was very ill (now better- yay!).

I made an airtight plan, based on my, ahem, unique-expertise-as-a-mental-health-professional, that would maximize the task of “processing my emotions”. One week at home, just to get used to waking up without a plan (as per the fantasy), two weeks alone in Mexico where the feelings would be felt and then coming home, renewed. It was a great plan, but very ambitious.

After the initial celebratory weekend, the first week consisted of a steady flow of tears leaking down my face for no apparent reason. If I tried to find an explanation, a vision from the past years would emerge, maybe a time I wasn’t believed, or I felt betrayed, or things seemed to be spiraling out of control.

I thought I had this whole “feeling my feelings” thing in the bag- the emotions were coming, little waves around me as I stood in the shallow end of the pool, manageable, I was feeling good, that I was on the right track.

And then I landed in the deep end. A day of travel, ending in a secluded, breathtakingly beautiful, location, leaving me to my whims, which appeared to be- more crying. Well, crying, now accompanied with a sense of panic, hypervigilance, and waves of overwhelm, coming out of the blue.

Walking down the beach, tears. Coffee on my private deck, tears. Reading in bed- enjoying a warm breeze while looking out over palm trees- uncontrollable, body-wrenching sobs.

I was in free fall with nothing to hold on to and no end in sight. I found myself grasping for something to anchor me, to provide a sense of direction. I was obsessed with how I was going to spend my days, what I would eat, and especially the number of days I had ahead of me- why did I think I would want to be alone for 15 DAYS? The mornings were the worst. While I had fantasized waking up with nothing but possibility in front of me, the nothingness was suffocating.

This lasted about five days. As the days passed (with the assistance of one Xanax on the worst day, a steady diet of guided meditation and Buddhist podcasts, virtual yin yoga sessions, two epic novels, several evenings of Netflix, nightly calls with my man, one emergency conversation with my friend who has gone through this, and a very compassionate Airbnb host who made sure I was fed), the intensity of my emotions began to soften, just like the way a held stretch gradually releases one muscle fiber at a time, giving way to a sense of openness and flexibility.

The rest of the trip was incredible, and, like most vacations, when the final day arrived, I was ready to go home, but hard-pressed to account for where the time had gone.

Note 2: I was burned out.

I was much more exhausted and near burnout than I knew- or maybe than I would admit. By any measure, the last decade of my life has been intense and stressful, and I knew I was “white knuckling” my way through. Pushing past disappointment, setbacks, legitimate fears, never failing to find the learning opportunity or silver-lining in it all, but skipping over the actual feelings that arose along the way. Like many of us, I was afraid that leaning into those feelings would lead to an unending spiral that I wouldn’t be able to function, much less lead an organization. through.

I am incredibly grateful for the voice inside me that insisted on making a change, and stubbornly figuring out how I could carve out this time to reflect and recover.

I’m now at baseline, an emotional place I haven’t achieved in far too long. Daily household tasks are flowing effortlessly, sleep is restful, my nervous system isn’t seeking the next hit of panic or novelty. I can read a book or watch an entire show without picking up my phone. I can check social media without endless scrolling. Days are slow and drawn out, but weeks are going quickly. I am unhurried, physically and mentally. I am present in conversations, relationships, and my alone time.

Note 3: I have an identity outside of my work.

This has come as both a surprise and a relief. Nonprofit work comes with built-in purpose, it’s easy for the cause to become all encompassing and for the experiences of the people you serve to become your personal passions, and to some extent, your identity. I was worried that I had relied too much upon my achievements and career to define who I am and that I would be lost without it. It’s not true. I still have the same passions, many driven by my professional experience, and while I was growing professionally, I was growing personally, they aren't separate. For the first time in my life, I’m pondering the concept of retirement with excitement rather than bafflement, and I’m really looking forward to the rest of my career. I’m experiencing how time shifts and extends, how having one or two things to do can feel like a full day, how extended open space leads to an organic, relaxed creativity, and the way my best ideas are just coming to me out of nowhere.

Note 4: Pausing is powerful, and you don’t need to quit your job to do it.

All of this has me thinking about the power of taking the opportunity to pause in whatever way possible. Pausing to take assessment. Pausing to feel difficult feelings fully, even if those feelings start to spiral out of control. Pausing to allow others to take some of the load.

Before this experience I was sure I needed two weeks on an island by myself, and I’m glad I did, clearly all the feelings were built up, but now I am hoping to prevent myself from hitting the wall in the first place by carving out time to pause.

Feeling my emotions in real time, processing events as they happen, even believing (gulp) that I can lead confidently, calmly, and by encouraging others through hard times, while simultaneously feeling my own uncertainty, doubt, grief and fear. This is new, but now my target. At the same time, remembering that quitting is a perfectly sane, reasonable option that is always available. Maybe feeling the feelings as I go will help me see when that's the best thing to do.

Looking to the future: we have work to do.

Even while I was on my island paradise, feeling and being, I was keenly aware of the world I was taking refuge from. Our nonprofit and mission-focused business communities in Minnesota are under ever-increasing pressures, leading to unprecedented leadership turnover and threats to the sustainability of our sector.

Just like all the big, weighty, issues our communities are grappling with, these issues aren’t going away overnight. I am interested in tackling these problems, and excited to have the time to devote to researching best practices, learning from all of you who are already hard at work, developing new ideas, and supporting my colleagues.

For now, thank you to all of you who have been following me on my journey- for the advice, connection, and support, and for patiently waiting to reach out with updates, respecting my need to cocoon for a while. We have an incredible community that I am eager to rejoin as I resume the professional part of my life.