Why I Am Taking a 12-month Sabbatical
Updated September 11, 2024
Me on route to Everest Base Camp, on sabbatical in March 2024.
The Laws of Nature and Rest
“There is a geological term, isostasy, which is defined as the tendency of something to rise, once whatever has been pushing it down is removed. While it is intended to describe the way the earth, rocks, and mountains remain in balance across the planet, it is useful to know that even the earth itself rises when any pressure or obstacle is removed or worn away.”
What if we, too, are governed by these same laws?
When we finally allow a space of stillness in which the relentless noises, pressures, and responsibilities of our days can gradually fall away, something ancient, wise, and true within us actually begins to rise; we awaken, we grow larger, we claim our full stature. We are liberated from those relentless downward forces, and our undeniable, inner hidden wholeness, sensing the promise of freedom, sun, and sky, breaks ground and bears us upward.
What if we actually believed that this hidden wholeness were really true? What if, as an experiment, if only for one day, we lived as if we believed that there lived in us some reliable strength, wisdom, and wholeness?
What if we were to pretend that, regardless our health or mood, our fortunes or circumstance, we would remain quietly wise, accurate, and trustworthy in our judgments and actions?
Even more, what if we could actually feel, sense, and know, with unshakable certainty, that wherever we went, into whatever company or situation we were called, we would carry with us always this capacity to move with confidence and trust into any situation?
How would we think, act, choose?
How would we respond differently to the world during such a day?
—Excerpt from, “A Life of Being, Having and Doing Enough” by Wayne Muler
What Makes Me Human?
In my life, I have experienced what it’s like to live and create without pressure. I have experienced myself as someone who was valued and precious, simply because I exist—not because I possessed exceptional skills or abilities.
I know what it’s like to be human, loved, and worthy at my core. I know what it feels like to spend days, weeks, and months in this space of acceptance.
And I also know what it’s like not to be human.
I know what it’s like to treat myself like a machine—a content creation factory, a project to be managed, a wild mustang to be reined in. I know what it’s like to feel all the work squeezed out of me until there is nothing left. To scrape the bottom of my barrel so dry that, if I don’t refill the tank, the barrel itself might break down.
This is why I need the practice of sabbaticals.
The Hidden Wholeness and the Need for Rest
In the years I spent traveling, I experienced that sense of “hidden wholeness.” I saw that life itself had a way of guiding, helping, and loving me. I didn’t need to push everything. I felt a deep sense of trust that something was carrying me along on a beautiful adventure.
Then I spent the last six years trying to navigate the modern world of work while living in Toronto and working “normal” jobs—jobs that had deadlines, expectations, bosses, and goals. I enjoyed the challenge and excelled at it, usually finishing my work quickly, thinking ahead, and exceeding expectations—until I had to do it again and again.
By year two in the city, I realized the pace of work was very different from being a solo entrepreneur and freelancer. You could say I’ve spent the last six years trying to figure out how to be me, work a job, and not burn out.
My Lifeline: Planning A Sabbatical
All these years of working, I always planned to take a sabbatical after six years.
Sabbaticals are an ancient practice—the art of taking a break from one’s daily life and going on a pilgrimage to seek guidance, rest or wisdom from a higher source.
Modern life, particularly in developed Western countries, seems to have largely forgotten this practice. When was the last time you heard someone say, “I’m going on sabbatical next year”?
Growing up, I was always familiar with sabbaticals because my parents are pastors, and they would get a sabbatical from their church work every seven years. They would talk about it in the 2-3 years leading up to their break, dreaming of taking courses or traveling.
When I got a job at a university, I heard about sabbaticals from faculty members who also looked forward to time off from marking papers and running courses.
But what about a sabbatical for me?
Planning My Sabbatical
Throughout these years of working full-time, I always planned to take a sabbatical after six years.
Sabbaticals are an ancient practice—the art of taking a break from one’s daily life and going on a pilgrimage to seek guidance, rest, restoration, spiritual growth.
Modern life, particularly in developed Western countries, seems to have largely forgotten this practice.
When was the last time you heard someone say, “I’m going on sabbatical next year”?
Growing up, I was always familiar with sabbaticals because my parents are pastors, and they would get a sabbatical from their church work every seven years. They would talk about it in the 2-3 years leading up to their break, dreaming of taking courses or traveling.
When I got a job at a university, I heard about sabbaticals from faculty members who also looked forward to time off from marking papers and running courses.
But what about a sabbatical for me?
Overworked & Underinspired
When I worked as a travelling content creator, I didn’t need a sabbatical from my work life because I had a healthy balance of work and play. Now, I don’t think that was a perfect life, nor would I want to do it again the way I did, but at the time, I had full control over my schedule and could take whatever rest I needed.
Once I started city life in 2018, things became different. Like so many others, I had a finite number of “days off.” I had to show up and “work” even when I felt empty. I couldn’t control my work timelines.
Over time, work crowded my life. I watched how my tendency to do more led me to work multiple jobs, take on freelance projects, and do a master’s degree while working full-time.
Month my month, I became more worn out. I made up for my tiredness by taking on more. At least switching between projects, school and jobs gave me a sense of newness and adventure. But as the years wore on, I could feel inside that I was not operating at my best anymore. My work did not give me quite the same sense of joy and purpose it once did.
(To be fair, I did get to produce some work I am incredible proud of, like the Heavenly Minded Earthly Good podcast and videos for Experience Niagara, but I often did that under higher levels of stress than would have been ideal and it felt sustainable.)
The Finish Line: My Sabbatical
All the while, I hung onto the idea of going on sabbatical in my seventh year. During the toughest times, my finish line was the sabbatical. Even if I leaned too heavily into my work and started to burn out, I would tell myself, “It’s okay. You’ll get to recover properly when you go on sabbatical.”
My sabbatical, planned to start February 2024, was my lifeline to a dream world I had touched during my travels. But I didn’t want it to just be a re-living of my 20s.
I needed to learn and integrate a different way to live.
A Life with Sabbaticals
I intend to take sabbaticals throughout my life for a few reasons:
Connection to God: Sabbaticals are one of the essential Christian practices that connect me more deeply with God and who He is creating me to be.
Creative Renewal: As a creative, sabbaticals feel essential to refilling my creative tank. I need to see, learn, and discover new things to keep creating and evolving.
Nurturing My Soul: I need to protect my soul from the increasingly fast pace of life. I have come to understand the importance of dormancy. There are many beautiful books on this topic, like the works of Christine Valters Paintner.
Professional Growth: Sabbaticals give me the space to think about what I want in life, pursue education, apply for new jobs, or explore new directions. They are opportunities to think strategically about my next steps and reset to bring my best self to work.
Planning for Future Sabbaticals
I sometimes feel disappointed that if I take a sabbatical every seven years, I might only have eight sabbaticals if I live until 90. However, I plan to take smaller journeys and breaks in between.
Most of all, sabbaticals feel like a time to recalibrate. They allow me to contemplate, integrate lessons, and gather myself before another big season of work and creation. Just like a car needs a tune-up, a sabbatical is a tune-up for my mind, soul, spirit, and body.
