I usually aim for monthly regularity in sharing Kairos Moments, but the last one went out a while ago.  As you may already know, I completely disconnected this past summer, taking a sabbatical from work.

This time away was very good for me and I now have a lot to say— way too much to squeeze into one burst of communication.  So I’m writing a series focusing on the seasons before, during, and after the sabbatical.

Why write this series?

1. The sabbatical was powerful and transformative.  I want others to catch a vision for taking a meaningful amount of time away from work for restoration and healing.  I hope these stories of success and toe-stubbing will be motivating and instructive, especially for CEOs who assume they can’t take a sabbatical.
2. The experience elevated my thinking and perspective on a number of important topics.  I trust that some leaders can benefit from me sharing what I’m learning, especially those navigating transitions from the first half of life to the second.

This whole topic may not be your bag.  If it isn’t, feel free to tune out for a while, and we can catch up in a few months.

If you’re curious and think there may be something here for you, let’s get to it…

I Need a Break

At the Naval Academy, we referred to the period between Christmas and Spring Break as “The Dark Ages.”  January and February are my least favorite months.  In Indiana, this time is often cold and dreary, with short days and long nights.  It affects my mood.  In early 2024, I found this season darker than usual.  I was getting annoyed by everything.  Events that usually wouldn’t bother me were triggering unexpectedly strong emotional reactions— mostly resentment, contempt, and irritation.   I also found that I could show up and bring my A-game (or maybe my A-minus-game) to scheduled events, but when it came to the white space in my calendar, I didn’t have the energy to do much with it, including the important internal projects I had committed to completing.

In February, I muttered to myself, “I need a break.”

And then I couldn’t shake the idea. A break grew to a sabbatical in my mind.  I mentioned it to my better half Kim, and she didn’t say I was crazy.

The appeal of a sabbatical continued growing.

But I had some reservations.  There were a million reasons not to take a sabbatical.  Revenue generation, momentum, upcoming obligations, the list of tasks that only I do, handing off the burden of my workload to the team, the impact on my family, the decrease in personal income, risk to my reputation, FOMO.

I told my spiritual director Jackie Halstead what I was thinking.  She noted that my irritability, the thinness of my containment mechanisms, my lack of emotional reserves, and the fact that I was finding even the easy things hard to do at work— these were classic signs of burnout.  I protested that taking a sabbatical felt like giving up. She said, “Yes, it is giving up.  You’ve been doing exhausting, emotionally intense work for 17 years without a break.  Your soul is longing for rest.”

It’s funny to me that I didn’t know I was burned out.  In the midst of it, I just couldn’t see it.  Burnout seemed like something other people experience, not me.  I was the frog in the pot of water that was slowly brought to a boil.  I didn’t notice I was getting cooked because it happened over months— maybe years.

I theorize that I didn’t notice because I don’t experience that much pressure at work, at least not the type of pressure that most of us assume leads to burnout.  Here’s what I mean…

In the first half of life, we’re at greatest risk of burnout when the classic work pressures are too high— heavy workload, lack of resources and support, financial uncertainty, and/or poor job fit.  Once we start transitioning to the second half of life, the pressures shift.  I believe my midlife burnout probably came less from work pressure, and more from a) shifting values, b) redefining success, c) a greater desire for meaning and legacy, and d) a growing sense of my own mortality.

After my conversation with Jackie, I started getting serious about planning.  I broached the idea of a sabbatical with my Kairos colleagues.  They recognized reality much more quickly than I did— this was the right prescription for what ailed me.

How Big a Break?

Even after deciding to take some meaningful time away from my usual rhythms, the temptation to “half-step” it was real, and strong.  Would I cut off contact with my clients for 3 full months, and if I did, would they want to work with me at the end of that period?  Since I’m the primary salesperson within Kairos, what would happen to our pipeline?  I initially planned to take three months away from my team, but only one of those months away from clients and prospects.

When I realized that I was making decisions about the sabbatical based on fear, I reached an inflection point.  I decided to go all-in:  no contact with my team, with clients, with LinkedIn, and with work email for the entire 3 months.  In retrospect, that was an important decision.  I realize now that giving in to the fear would have sabotaged the full value of the time away.

Summary

1. When you’re burned out, you may need more than a vacation.  Consider a sabbatical.
2. The pressures that lead to burnout shift in the second half of life.  The adaptations that we’ve built up in the first half don’t work for second half burnout pressures.
3. Don’t half-step it out of fear— take as full a break as possible.

Next installment… Part 2:  Preparation