On sabbaticals, freedom and being a poem
And how one woman made her friends wear aubergine bras for brunch
Dear friends,
Welcome back! I’ve missed writing these emails and I’ve especially missed our conversations. As some of you might know, I’m slowly emerging from a sabbatical. Having been a freelance consultant for most of my career, I have always found the concept of a sabbatical impossibly romantic and impossibly impractical. Thankfully romanticism won over practicality, and I decided to take some time off. I wanted to experience who I am when I’m not building, leading, helping, hustling, hosting, advocating, and connecting. I wanted to let everything unfold organically. In yoga, the body intuitively finds the shapes and flows that lead to deeper sensation and an expression of freedom. But how does this work in life? As poet Jaime Gil de Biedma writes:
“I believed that I wanted to be a poet, but deep down I just wanted to be a poem.”
Choosing to “be a poem” in the midst of global uncertainty and unrest did rise some parental eyebrows, but if there’s one thing that the last few years have taught me is that the “unprecedented times” we’re in require courage, energy and creativity - resources that need to be sustained.
Why a sabbatical?
So, why a sabbatical? I hadn’t taken a break since leaving my job at Meta and I needed to pause, reflect, and, like many, be inspired again. Long Covid taught me not to take my energy for granted, so I decided to invest in myself, however impractical it might be. Taking time off to reconnect with joy and meaning can feel indulgent, but I found motivation in the wise words of activist Karen Walrond:
“I will never apologise for embracing joy and beauty - even then the world is falling apart - because joy and beauty are my fuel for activism.”
A Sabbatical Micro-Movement
It turns out that I wasn’t alone in feeling that way. From my heroes Krista Tippett to Brené Brown, to my friends David Spinx, Anique Coffee, Erik Rodin and Alice Katter (also heroes!), it seemed like this big need for rest was universal. I became interested in the new language emerging around this theme. It wasn’t just a summer break, it was a summer sabbatical and a summer of radical rest. Perhaps the legitimacy of the academic term gave us the permission we so desperately needed. In today’s culture of work we need a ‘real’ excuse to take a break, usually as real as burnout. Or perhaps we used the term to emphasise that just like an academic sabbatical, this wasn’t an extended vacation, but an opportunity to go deeper. It’s still work, just of a different kind, as my friend and researcher Nic Spaull, who’s on an academic sabbatical reminds me. So contrary to what you might expect, non-academic sabbaticals are not all freedom and fun, they are also an invitation to go deeper and work with fear and uncertainty.
The depleted dreamer
At the time, something else was emerging from conversations with clients, communities and friends: a universal sentiment of exhaustion. In one of my biggest research projects to date, I interviewed people from leading global companies on their sense of belonging at work. Many felt tired, burnt out and in need of inspiration. They were desperate for a break, yet felt a sense of urgency to not only keep going but to contribute meaningfully to the world. I was feeling it too. We’re we all depleted dreamers?
Pockets of freedom
My intention for the sabbatical was to make time for creativity and inspiration that would fuel the next chapter of my work. If the antidote to busyness were vast, uninterrupted stretches of time, I thought I’d soon be spending entire days, (weeks!) dreaming, writing and creating. I pictured myself locked in my studio, making and making.
To my great surprise, the vast uninterrupted empty space never came. My days were still busy, although every day felt like a Friday. While this was somewhat disappointing, it was also a relief. I learned that the feeling of spaciousness doesn’t need entire days and weeks, it can exist in small pockets of daily experience, small pockets of freedom. I started noticing that the days I was the most relaxed and creative had tech-free pockets where I could read, research and think without interruption. Then, inspiration came, quietly, taking small steps. Only then my brain started to play in associations and connect ideas, thoughts and concepts. Now, I can plan my week to include high quality moments of focus and creativity without the illusion of needing entire weeks off. For the coming months I’m experimenting with different daily routines, phone-free weekends, as well as a robust meditation practice to help me create inner space. I’m choosing to create a different version of daily reality, because it turns out that time in itself is quite empty and insignificant. What’s significant and meaningful, is the way we connect to it.
Your undivided attention
The biggest gift of my sabbatical so far has been a dive deep into the notion of attention.
“When you get to the end of your life, the sum total of all the things you paid attention to will have been your life.”
This quote is from Oliver Burkeman’s brilliant book Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals (thanks to Christina Herbach for the recommendation!). On a given day, do we know what we pay attention to? In the beautiful podcast New Constellations, cultural entrepreneur Hrund Gunnsteindóttir invites her students to journal and pay close attention to what they pay attention to. Isn’t this beautiful? What do you pay attention to on a daily basis? And what’s the quality of this attention?
A year ago, I left my full-time job without a plan, but with an intention - to invest my energy and joy in projects that systemically address how we connect to community, nature, work and our inner selves. What I didn’t know then, is that intention without attention is nothing. Perhaps, then, how we connect to our lives simply depends on what we pay attention to. Perhaps, we don’t need uninterrupted weeks and months to understand that we have agency, right in this moment, to connect to what matters most. Friends, I wish you to rest in this feeling for a moment, to feel your own power and radiance.
And now, here are this month’s Celebrations, Contemplations, Conversations, and a new section, Connection Experiments.
Celebrations
New exciting things from people and communities around me…
Congratulations to Genevieve Nathwani for launching System Changers, a newsletter about growth and personal transformation for people who lead systemic change.
Congrats to Casper ter Kuile for launching the Nearness - an eight-week journey to connect more deeply with yourself, the world around you and the people you love.
Congrats to Jonny Miller for launching the second edition of his truly magical Nervous System Mastery course. I was lucky to be part of the first cohort and learned so much about how to regulate, trust and transform my nervous system. Enrolment for cohort 2 closes on October 29th, take a look here.
Contemplations
Particularly beautiful moments and discoveries…
Last month, I went to Costa Brava for a special celebration - my friend Paulina Mustafa’s bachelorette. Paulina is one of my dearest friends and her love for life, fun and joy is contagious. She’s also one of the most creative people I know, being an engineer, designer and inventor. Paulina works at Google AI by day and makes hats by night. She’s a creative with a big C, the kind who’s not afraid of electric wires and casual Sunday drilling. She’s a lady with a toolbox of her own. So naturally, one of our mornings was spent designing and building sophisticated outfits for an ‘all but clothes’ brunch. Our costumes could be designed from any item, apart from actual clothes, but the more consumable the better. So there we were, designing ‘scrambled eggs’ skirts, engineering aubergine bras, sewing candy necklace tops and… just making things happen. What I treasure from that weekend is precisely this electric energy of ‘making things happen’. I love when one woman has a bold vision and her friends happily, gladly, make it happen. This, my friends, is devotion. Here’s Paulina with fresh salad-wear from the market.
Conversations
Conversations I’m noticing around me…
Unsurprisingly, many conversations I’m having at the moment are on sabbaticals. I often speak with my friend and conversation partner Alice Katter, who also works in Culture and Community (so we have a lot to talk about!). You’ll find her sabbatical story below and you can read her newsletter on the topic here. Also, check out her lovely Field Journal, a digital workbook for recording observations about the world outside the office.
For me, the sabbatical was a break that I really craved. After having spent a long period working and living in Mexico, LA, and NYC, and not having spent a long, slow summer in Europe for three years, I felt like I needed a break from the fast-paced, always-on, always-working environment, and was really craving a ‘Slow European Summer’. My sabbatical was a reminder that we can’t set a time and expect to have ‘things figured out’ afterward. Instead, we can just take it as a time to better understand the moments and activities of our lives that make us feel happy and alive. It’s a time to explore, play, have fun, do things slower and just enjoy daily life, rather than measuring it by our productivity and its outcome.
Connection Experiments
Something to try in your communities…
I recently attended a London Writers’ Salon workshop by Marieke Bigg who invited participants to write from a specific part of their bodies, say an eye lash or an elbow. It was really fun to witness what happens when the body and physical sensations guide the writing. Highly recommending this exercise to help a group feel more embodied and creative. Let me know what you discover!
Thanks for reading, friends. It’s so nice to be back. As always, feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you’re reading, writing and processing. Today’s newsletter goes out to 1132 of you, and I can’t wait to see what we create together.
With immense gratitude,
V
Lovely to read this update!
Four Thousand Weeks has been of one my faves this year, truly perspective-shifting.
Also, funny you did NSM! I've just registered for the 2nd cohort <3
Vee, the return of your newsletter was a welcomed surprise! I will carry that 'being a poem' vibe into my upcoming serendipitous break in Japan.