Taking time out
Last year I decided to take a 3 month sabbatical.
I’d been building my career since graduating from the University of Nottingham over a decade ago. It was an exciting professional journey filled with growth, inspirational people and the discovery of new ideas, but in my personal life there were difficult times which I had been battling through. Work gives us a rhythm and valuable focus when life throws us curveballs. My job was a crucial part of my identity and self-worth. I have always been ambitious and I wanted to take on more and more responsibility, to keep busy and moving forward. And for a long time I did just that.
In 2016 the number of people I line-managed reached its highest number. The UX community I led spanned Europe, the US and Asia. We worked with lots of people on lots of products. Everyone was talented and producing great work. Things were going well on the surface. But I was working harder and longer to keep up, checking my emails at all hours, trying to stay up to date, constantly thinking of how to manage situations, develop people and resolve challenges. I tried to take up new hobbies but struggled to balance them with increasing tiredness. My brain felt too full to learn new languages or skills. I couldn’t switch off. It was time to re-evaluate and get some breathing space.
I was lucky to have the opportunity to take a sabbatical without disrupting business priorities or the work of the team. Taking time out from work meant temporarily changing the habits of my adult life. I moved out of the flat I’d been renting and put my possessions into storage. It was scary and liberating. The things I wanted to achieve were to pause for thought, spend time with my family and see more of the world. People kept asking about the plan. The truth is there wasn’t a definite plan. I bought a big suitcase, an airline ticket and made an offer to buy a flat in London (assuming it may well fall through). I guess I wanted to travel far and find my feet again when I came back, leaving room to figure out the plan as I went.
The first thing I did was to visit my family in Stoke. My Mum had been involved in an accident earlier in the year when a drunk driver lost control of their car, causing her considerable injuries. Living a few hours away from my parents and sister is something I am used to, but in circumstances like these it is very hard. Luckily we received fantastic support from the NHS who operated on Mum’s leg and cared for her in hospital. Thereafter my Dad became her full-time carer. My sister had also recently had a baby, so we had a new family member in the mix. So all I did for those first few days was be present. To hold my niece, to hug my Mum.
Then I needed an adventure and Dad needed a break! We embarked on a road trip together in the Southern states with a round trip from New Orleans taking in Memphis and Nashville (aka the Blues Highway). I invented our itinerary day by day, relying on motel wifi each evening to plan the next day’s driving destinations. It was Dad’s first visit to the US and a brand new cultural experience for him. We were on a budget so Wendy’s and Buffalo Wild Wings were the order of the day. We got to experience plenty of classic American breakfasts (grits, biscuits, waffles, pancakes!) We got to listen to live music, talk and argue about life whilst driving hundreds of miles. We survived crazy weather including a lightning storm and flash flood. I’ll always be grateful for this time (and for us surviving that storm!)
I then headed West alone to explore more of the US, making my way through cities I had never been to before including Austin, Portland and Seattle. Solo travel gave me a new appreciation for the kindness of strangers. My Airbnb hosts in each of the cities were helpful and friendly to the far-from-home British woman who landed on their doorstep. In Portland I stayed in the wonderful Little House owned by Cheryl, who was thoroughly lovely and gave me some fantastic contacts for other places I visited. In Seattle I stayed with an amazing couple who had two beautiful cats. It made me realise that you can make a big difference to someone who is away from their native country by being generous and open. Even just by offering directions, advice or a smile. I resolved to be more patient with tourists back home!
As I was travelling on my own time, I used public transport and walked for several hours a day. This meant I got to experience the characters of the cities, the good and the bad. I avoided rush hour and rested when I was tired. I allowed my mind to wander. I listened to music. I took photos and tried street food. Simple things, but nonetheless important to me.
I learned to trust my own instincts. Whilst I mainly had positive encounters, there were occasions where I met people I didn’t trust or accidentally found myself staying in unpleasant places. I made decisions to get back to a place of safety, ignoring the awkwardness or difficulty involved. I was proud of myself for fixing the problems. I remembered I can do self-reliance!
Continuing on to Hawaii and Japan, the scenery became more exotic and I started to talk to people more, overcoming my natural reserve and finally hitting my stride as a traveller. There was a particular moment when I realised I was doing something amazing and I just needed to relax and enjoy it! I made new acquaintances through serendipity and being open to opportunities. I found myself driving a jeep, drinking sake and getting a fish pedicure with great people who quickly went from strangers to friends. At midnight in Tokyo I received an email confirming that I had completed the purchase of the flat in London. Another phase in the plan was revealing itself. I made my way back via Hong Kong, emerging from 14 hours of travel to a new home which needed a total renovation.
Continuing to live out of my suitcase, I stayed with friends who were kind enough to house me whilst I project managed the refurb (which was its own story!). I didn’t miss many of the possessions I had in the storage unit — in fact it was liberating to travel light and I realised that very few things are actually essential. But I missed the sense of having my own space, which I found again when I finally moved into my new home.
Of course there were lows as well as highs. I worried that taking the sabbatical in the first place could undo years of hard work, I felt far outside of my comfort zone and I was very lonely at times (even/especially when I returned to London). And obviously I ran out of money! Sometimes we tell ourselves all the things we would do if we had more time — become fitter and healthier, more intellectual and spiritual, generally better humans. The reality can be disappointing. You are still yourself and you still run out of time to do everything you can imagine.
And then suddenly I was back to work, the same but very different!
It’s difficult to quantify everything I gained from taking time out. I felt like I hit the re-set button and got back in touch with my own values. I am more committed to staying true to myself now. I set a new pace in my life that was based on my preferences. New relationships started and new possibilities opened up. I feel a bit more brave and as if I have something more interesting to say.
I would do it again in a heartbeat. I just need to do some saving first!
