What I Learned On My Sabbatical
For three months, I didn’t check my work email. I never logged on to LinkedIn. I didn’t earn an income. I didn’t read the news.
I took a sabbatical.
My family packed up and travelled to Europe for 10 weeks to rest, explore, spend quality time together, and reset some of the norms and rhythms of daily life.
Sabbaticals are an extended time away from work, intended for personal and/or professional development. While most common in academia, more companies are offering sabbaticals to reward loyalty and rejuvenate their employees. Having this opportunity was a tremendous privilege, one that our family spent years saving and planning for.
When we’re given space and time to reflect, we bring fresh ideas and a sense of gratitude and purpose to our work. My hope is that these reflections spark insight, but even more so, I hope that you’re inspired to take time to step back from work, experience life in a new way, and enable this experience for your employees.
1) Accept Your Limitations
One of the most dramatic and unexpected changes was having enough time each day. My to-do list didn’t exceed my available time.
It’s almost automatic to dismiss this feeling as simply the result of having no responsibilities. No emails to respond to, no yard to upkeep, no carpools to arrange. Certainly, that was part of it. And yet, we constantly faced decisions about what we were not going to do. The towns and museums we were not visiting. The trails we were not hiking. The souvenirs we were not buying. We were highly conscious of the endless options to fill our time and spend our money, and, perhaps as a result, we accepted our limitations. In our case, limitations of physical energy, hunger, time, suitcase space, and mental engagement—limitations that made choices clearer.
After only a few weeks of reentering the real world, I find myself slipping back into my too-long to-do list. Too many tasks to complete. Too many initiatives to kickstart. Too many people to connect with.
What differs from our sabbatical is that the number of options is not obviously endless, so I find myself under the illusion of possibility. That with just a little more time, people, or focus, it can all be accomplished. Subconsciously, I’m rejecting the limits I so desperately need to embrace. These limits improve the quality of work, physical and emotional health, and how we interact with others.
The only solution I can offer is to intentionally choose to do less. We must embrace our organizational and personal limitations and be conscious of the trade-offs we make when we overextend. Limitations force better decisions.
(For a related article on this topic, see: Grow More with Less: 5 Principles to Power Your Strategy.)
Questions to consider:
Does your to-do list or strategic plan consistently exceed the resources available?
What limits need to be embraced to preserve quality and personal and/or team engagement?
2) Repurpose the Obsolete
What happens when something doesn’t work anymore? When it has outlasted its purpose? We get rid of it. Our culture prefers new over old, replacing over repairing.
In Europe, countless cities and towns sport architecture dating back to the 1100s, if not Roman times. History imbues these towns with a sense of longevity and endurance unrivaled in the United States.
Throughout our travels, I encountered numerous examples of obsolete structures that were not destroyed but repurposed, creating arguably even greater value.
The Piazza dell’Anfiteatro in Lucca, Italy, was once the site of gladiator games and has been preserved as a ring of restaurants and shops, built on the original foundation. Maintaining the classic oval shape, it has become an iconic symbol of the city.
Also in Lucca (clearly masters at reinvention!), the military walls surrounding the city, which provided protection during the Middle Ages and Renaissance, were turned into a public park by Elisa Bonaparte Baciocchi (Napoleon’s sister) in the 19th century. Many formerly walled cities have demolished these structures, but in Lucca, locals and visitors alike enjoy a complete 2.5-mile tree-lined bike and running path encircling the city.
The Musée d’ Orsay, a now famous Impressionist museum in Paris, was formerly a train station. After becoming functionally obsolete, it was scheduled for demolition, but a movement mounted in the 1970s to preserve the structure, and it was transformed into a museum.
In each of these examples, the full and sustained value of a new purpose couldn’t have been anticipated. The novelty of creative reinvention is the very thing that enhances its appeal.
Reflection Questions:
What outdated product, system, or structure are you considering disposing of?
How can it be repurposed to create new, unique forms of value?
3) Be Humble with Your Fluency
We travelled to multiple countries where I didn’t speak the language. I wanted to ask for help, but felt helpless, incompetent, and rude because I couldn’t communicate properly.
I found my personality subtly changing. I preferred to stay in the background, lost confidence, became frustrated. Other than language, my capacities were the same. It was my inability to articulate myself that led to withdrawal.
Being fluent in a language gives us unconscious confidence. We know what to say and how to express ourselves. We have the tools to better understand those around us. Whether that language is spoken, conceptual, or a skill set—be it German, engineering, plumbing, or strategy— we often take our fluency for granted because it comes so naturally to us.
Reflection Questions:
What “languages,” such as a particular skill set, are you fluent in that you take for granted?
Do you make assumptions or judge others if they don’t possess the same competency?
How might you support others in becoming fluent? Or can you redirect their efforts into languages where they already have greater competency?
4) Pursue Your Passion (Even if it Delays Success)
On multiple museum visits, I learned that many artists we recognize as geniuses today faced enormous criticism and weren’t successful until later in life or after death.
Vincent van Gogh was virtually unknown when he died at the age of 37, selling only one painting in his lifetime. His numerous, and now iconic, self portraits were mostly a product of his inability to afford models.
Spanish architect Antonio Gaudí faced consistent opposition and criticism for his distinct style, with most of his projects funded by a single patron. The full recognition of his genius didn’t occur until nearly a century later.
Claude Monet began painting in his novel Impressionist style in his 20s but lived in poverty for two more decades. Not until his mid-50s did Monet experience widespread appreciation for his work and financial success.
Our culture prioritizes the quick win, the hack, the instant success story. When real measures of success are hard to come by, we settle for a deceiving proxy: attention. Impressions, views, likes, and comments can sneak into our goals, sometimes replacing the very thing we set out to achieve. We follow the crowd rather than pursuing a unique path.
Reflection Questions:
Has your business stopped pursuing a unique direction to follow a more conventional path?
Where are you seeking quick wins, based on vanity metrics, that might be distracting you from what’s truly original and breakthrough?
5) Explore Apprenticeship
We encountered the concept of apprenticeship throughout our trip: Renaissance art produced by Florentine artistic guilds, modern-day winemaking where knowledge of the terrain, methods, and taste is passed down generation to generation, and Venetian glassblowing.
At a glassblowing demonstration, we witnessed an apprentice (who looked in his mid-30s) being coached. It was the first time I’ve viewed a public, paid demonstration of an adult being corrected.
What’s distinct about apprenticeship is that it involves dedicated instruction alongside an expert teacher for a long time, years if not decades. Historically supported by a formal agreement, the practice demands much from both parties. By the student: humility—a submission to authority and acceptance that there is much to be learned. By the teacher: a sustained commitment to invest in and share knowledge with another, knowing he or she will likely move on, perhaps to even surpass the talent of the instructor.
Today’s mentorship model is more akin to speed dating, where mentors and mentees dabble with commitment and advice, picking and choosing the things they like and dismissing the rest.
Companies resist investing too much in training because junior talent may prematurely leave. Young people entering the workforce resist humbling themselves too much to one individual because they want to keep their options open and avoid making an exclusive commitment.
As AI adoption scales, the long-term human-to-human knowledge exchange will continue to decrease. On one hand, AI is replacing talent; on the other, skill acquisition becomes ever more self-service.
Reflection Questions:
What might an informal apprenticeship look like in your life or business? How might it differ from a traditional training or mentorship model?
Does your company hold back training and development for fear of overinvesting?
Most meaningful observations occur not through the retelling of someone else’s experience, but through personal experience. I hope these reflections have sparked an interest in taking time away from work. If you’re the leader, consider implementing a sabbatical policy. If you’re an employee, discuss your options with your employer. A few great resources can be found at the Sabbatical Project and HBR.
An extended break allows you to reflect and return to work renewed, full of ideas, and ready for new possibilities.
