Sarah Goelitz: Why I took a sabbatical
I’d always thought of a sabbatical as a faraway dream. Right up until the month I decided to take one.
In 2020 and 2021, I was lucky enough to be on a fantastic team who worked on the front lines of my company’s pandemic response. The work was intense, emotionally taxing, and incredibly rewarding. I worked with a team who deeply cared about our customers, carried their needs into every meeting and slack message, and pulled off ridiculously ambitious launches while caring for their own families during a worldwide crisis. They were amazing. We were all proud to be doing work that, in our own small way, made things easier for Americans during the pandemic crisis.
And, in the rare moments I stopped to think about it, I was really, really tired.
Not only that, my spidey sense for oncoming change had been lighting up for at least a year. I had a secret google doc where I started listing things I loved about my job, things I wished were different, big dreams about things I wanted to create. The google doc kept getting longer. But all of it, I thought, could wait until after things calmed down, and I could earn my next promotion, or the one after that, or maybe the one after that.
The universe had other plans. Late in 2021 I encountered a conflict of values at my company that made it impossible for me to stay. Suddenly my secret google doc was very, very relevant. I reached out for help and advice – and the women who shared their stories, wit, and courage will have my unending gratitude (you know who you are, ladies). Over the next month, I scanned the job market, created a “goals for sabbatical” list, sketched out a take-6-months-off plan, activated the fuck-off fund, and resigned.
It was one of the best decisions I ever made.
I took a sabbatical partly because I needed a break from an increasingly toxic environment. But more than moving away from something, I wanted to move toward something – toward rest, restoration, reflection, health, creation. I wanted to reconnect with my intuition without worrying about whether I fit into a world shaped for someone who wasn’t me. At the core of it, I wanted to move toward life.
I’m looking forward to sharing with you how my sabbatical went. For now, two things stand out to me: first, that I benefit from layers of privilege that allowed me to take this step. Second, taking a sabbatical, short or long, can feel terrifying even if you have the resources to do it (and I think it takes fewer resources than a lot of us assume). Stepping temporarily away from our day jobs isn’t exactly prioritized in American capitalism in 2022. Having resources is different from having permission, and permission is something only we can give ourselves.
I’d love to hear what comes to mind to you when you think about sabbaticals. Does it feel frightening? exciting? like a faraway dream, or like something that could actually happen? This is a place to dream and scheme, so tell us about it.