On a Sunday afternoon I was in a dark, cozy, cavernous room in Portland’s outer southeast Lents neighborhood putting acupuncture needles in a patient. He was jovial despite chronic pain from a bad accident years ago. “How’s your weekend?” he asked, and then hastiliy added, “Oh, I guess you don’t really get a weekend since you’re working today.” He looked at me apologetically, as if I might be offended, having been reminded that I was working on what is most people’s day of rest. “Well, I’ve had a six-month weekend,” I smiled back.

All-told, it’s been nine months now, and the time has been extraordinary. I am so glad I gave myself the gift of this adventuring, a wild ride of testing my own integrity, receiving generosity, and reconnecting to my zeal for life. Without knowing where I would land, I jumped, and as it turned out, the universe, my wings, and my loved ones caught me. I got to journey around the East and West coasts, and spend a lot of quality time with friends and family in Wisconsin, whom I appreciate more than ever. I got to rest, rejuvenate, and re-purpose myself. Why don’t we do this more? Down-time and dream time is essential to creativity. We’re so focused on productivity that we forget to stop, take a breath, look around, and imagine. I think this leads to a deep sense of disempowerment and despair, exactly what I was feeling before I made a break for it.

I went back and re-read my first blog entry (the one I never actually posted) to recall my original intentions for starting this experiment, wondering if I had actually accomplished what I set out to do. I found this paragraph:

This is not a crisis, although it may look rather chaotic from the outside. Nor is it an escape or a dodging of responsibility. It is more like a sabbatical, as one friend put it. Only, I don’t ever plan to go back to things as they were. I am not stepping out of my real life into a temporary one and then returning again. I am remaking it.

I believe I have succeeded in what I set out to do. I re-engaged with my inner scientist, who is always seeking to gain knowledge and apply it in a meaningful way to my life. Some part of me had fallen asleep, exhausted, extinguishing my passion and disconnecting me from my purpose. I was lost. What was so scary about the first part of the sabbatical was that I wasn’t sure I would ever be found. What if my chosen career didn’t suit me anymore? What if I had lost touch with who I was? What if there was no meaning to anything? Plenty of people had survived such transitions, but I was afraid that I wouldn’t. Perhaps depression and hopelessness would swallow me whole.

Luckily, my friends and family kept me from falling apart and in the meantime curiosity took hold. If ever you decide to take a sabbatical in your life I suggest that you have something to grab your attention, something you can sink your teeth into and chew on (more on that below). NYC and the East coast were my teasers and they helped keep me engaged in my post-work life. What were people doing with their lives? I started looking around, talking to folks, and getting ideas. My creative fire sparked and grew. I started dreaming and scheming again. And then the tides turned and I was overwhelmed with possibility. Something was better than nothing, but it came with a new anxiety and my confidence cowered meek in the corner. The only thing worse than not having a dream was to not feel ready to manifest it.

So I went to Wisconsin and incubated. My dad fed me stir-friend beans and rice and lots of suggestions while I plotted my next move. My friends gave me business advice and a heavy dose of realism. I played board games and slept.

And now, months later, the seeds I sowed in the fall and incubated in winter, the dreams and the plans, are sprouting. I’m taking the reins and attempting to steer my own course as a small business owner.  It’s my next grand adventure, just as terrifying and invigorating. I’m excited to be responsible for my own financial solvency, and to explore new ways to help people with acupuncture and traditional medicine.

So, to put to rest the topic of sabbaticals here is some advice I learned with mine. Perhaps it will help you plan your own.

1. Maintain your bridges. Don’t let yourself get so burned out by your life that you burn your bridges on your way out, whether it be your job, your housing situation, or your relationships. You’ll want them when you land home, or at least you don’t want bad juju following you into this chapter of your life.
2. Have a tentative plan. Suddenly having a lot of free time and (potentially) very little income will probably come as a shock. Make sure you have something the grab onto that you’re passionate about, at least to start out with.
3. Have some savings and some ideas for making money while exploring. Let friends know you are available for odd jobs. If you are traveling, keep your eyes and ears open for temporary work whether through craigslist ads or other classifieds. And, always be safe and wary of people trying to take advantage of temporary or cash-based workers.
4. Don’t plan too much. There’s a sweet spot between having a little structure and also letting yourself follow an organic course that evolves out of your journey as it unfolds. If you’re traveling, have folks you know and love along the way who will be a rock in a storm should you need it, interspersed with some more adventurous or risky ventures.
5. Be flexible. Lots of amazing people and experiences come out of being open to new things or a change of plans. Be discerning about safety and also curious about potential.
6. Listen to the nay-sayers, but keep your distance. There will probably be people in your life who will think you are crazy. They probably care about you in one way or another. Listen to them, but always remember why you are doing what you are doing and be wary of fear eating your dreams.
7. Follow your gut and heart. Your sabbatical can look any way you want it. You don’t have to travel long distances to far away lands to break out of your box. Adventuring is a state of mind more than anything else.
8. Keep in touch with your people. Bring people into your world who love and support you. Keep them updated with blogging or other forms of social media. They will love to adventure vicariously with you and you will be glad along the way to have a team cheering you on.
9. Keep the adventuring spirit alive when you decide (if you decide) to put down roots again. You left your structured life for a reason. Be careful not to revert to old patterns, whether it be an old job, housing situation, or any other habit that you’re re-engaging out of fear or comfort. Let your peeps take care of you, but don’t contract too much after the expansion.
10. Above all else, remember to ever be aware of your fear. Fear is information; do not let it overwhelm you. Do not let it mix with your imagination and become anxiety to consume you from the inside out. As Frank Herbert wrote in the Litany of Fear:

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

A good friend of mine took a sabbatical to Nepal to serve in the Acupuncture Relief Project. The director of the organization is Buddhist and every day he gets on his motorcycle and says to himself, “Today is a good day to die.” Every day he aims to ensure that he is doing exactly what is important to him. I think this is essential to true happiness. To be ready to die at any moment is to ensure that one is living as honestly as possible with themselves. When one knows how to die, one knows how to live.

This will be my last blog entry at The Known Limits, at least for awhile. In the meantime, you can find me at zocalowellness.org, where I will be blogging about health and acupuncture. Thanks for coming along on this adventure with me!