How to Change Tracks, Hand in Your Notice, and Take a Sabbatical Year
“What would it take for me to make a change to do meaningful work, even for a single year?”
Photo by Emily Fletke
Railroad tracks—the way they muscle their way to the horizon, tie by tie—have long lured my imagination with their promise of possibility. I’ve never been able to resist the little offshoots of trails that stitch Hudson Valley together, always pondering the question, Where might that lead?
My vacations have always begun not at my destination, but the moment my plane leaves the tarmac at JFK, the tiny speck of Manhattan submerged in the wake of the jet while my anticipation leaps with the altitude of the plane as I daydream about my destination.
I’m coming to recognize that the desire to explore, to see what is just around the corner, is a deep and true part of me. At the same time, lately I’ve been confronted by the realization that however this adventurous bent might play out in my travels, my life trajectory has remained fairly stable. I’m living in NYC and working at the same company I joined as a twenty-year-old intern.
A challenging thought snuck up on me recently, and perhaps it resonates with you: How many of my constraints are actually choices? What would it take for me to make a change to do meaningful work, even for a single year? To have space to create that’s not currently possible with the anemic margin of my day job? What is there to lose? What might I gain? Maybe you’d like to consider these questions, too.
PERMISSION TO IMAGINE
Revelations in hand, but still safely in the territory of the theoretical, I began this past summer simply entertaining what I could do with a sabbatical year. To my surprise, I saw that the moment I gave myself permission to imagine, far from being distracted by ambiguous possibilities, I could easily define the handful of things I wanted to spend more time on, at least in theory. I would just need to do the (not so very) small things of quitting my job and relocating to another state. But a plan was taking shape, and as it did, dominoes of fears and erroneous thinking began to tumble. Are you giving yourself permission to imagine?
STEPPING AWAY
Have you ever waited so long for the M23 bus that you could have traversed the width of Manhattan on foot before it arrived? Did you notice that the longer you waited, the less likely you were to change plans and just give up on the bus?
When you've invested so much time in something, it can be hard to change track. I felt this way about the years I spent earning my professional designation. I wrestled with what it would mean if I stepped away from it.
Like the free gift of rain, one day wisdom dropped into my head in the whisper that I now recognize as God's voice. Stepping away from that career didn't mean I had been on the wrong track; it simply means that season has served its purpose and is coming to an end. Perhaps you sense that a season is coming to an end for you as well.
COUNTING THE COST
Other secret fears and hidden fixations revealed themselves. There was the illusion I was the first human, ever, to undertake such a change. There was the fear of not having an income. There was the thought that I was choosing something permanently and I’d never be able to undo my choice. There was the temptation to stay anesthetized by my comfortable lifestyle.
Slowly, the core issues surfaced. Who was I becoming? What about when the cost of not making a change became too high? How purposeful would I feel in ten years if I was still doing the same work then? Wouldn’t it be advantageous to make a move as a single woman with her dog, rather than when I had a family to steward? If not now… when? What fears and costs are you considering?
GRIEF AND EXCITEMENT
The final hurdle to clear was how to manage my feelings when the time came to submit my resignation. I anticipated that I would weep through that conversation—and I did.
I came to appreciate the immense privilege of loving the people and place I was leaving and the gift of ending on good terms. I came to know, too, that the sadness I felt on leaving didn't mean that I was making the wrong decision. Gratitude and love for the last season and grief for it ending and excitement for the new could all coexist and be true. What final hurdle are you apprehensive to clear?
THE JOURNEY VS THE DESTINATION
There’s an unmistakable thread here that perhaps you’ve already noticed. I have harbored some anxiety about whether I’m making the right decisions about the city I’m moving to, about leaving my job, about the timing of all of it... I don’t know yet if all of this will prove itself to be ‘right,’ but the treasure I received through exploring this opportunity—even before I followed through!—has been a peace and freedom that came from prioritizing the journey over the destination. It can be the same for you.
Maybe I’ll stay there for a year and then move on. Things have a way of coming up, which is another way of saying that life has a way of happening. It’s said that we become who we are through the decisions we make. When we feel this strongly about taking a risk, about stepping off the well-defined trail, we can choose to become women who are able to step into a different future with courage and faith.
What would you devote yourself to if you had a year without limits? What’s stopping you?
Kelsey Anne is a writer, spiritual director, and run coach helping people flourish in body, mind, and spirit in urban settings. She writes about faith and the inner life at fireandwhisper.com. For all intents and purposes, she lives in Central Park.