Mark and I take an unplugged sabbatical every two years. Typically, we’re in the Caribbean on a quiet island for five weeks. This year, because of the pandemic, we’re not traveling as far nor staying as long. Still, we’ll have 3 weeks in an Airbnb in St. Petersburg, FL. We leave tomorrow.

While there, we remove ourselves from screens, Internet, email, news, social media, and even text messages. (The phone is for emergencies only.) The plug is pulled! And it’s liberating.

It’s a reset for my soul.

I read piles of books (for fun! not for work); write, create, and draw in my journal; take photographs just because; make time for yoga, running, and stretching; commune with the ocean; and savor ordinary moments, like the first cup of coffee or the setting sun.

Our transportation is the bikes provided by the rental house. Bike to get groceries. Make simple, tasty meals. Have long conversations. Allow for quiet, stillness, and reflection. 

While away, I feel tugs of “missing out.” What are my loved ones doing? How are my friends? Yet placing myself off-grid reminds me that everyone is okay without me. And I am okay on my own.

I also feel tugs about my business: What if a client needs me? What if I miss an interesting opportunity? Again, being off-grid reminds me that my work is important yet it’s not essential. Untying myself from feeling (incorrectly) that I’m “the person” for everyone lets my mind and heart breathe. I cultivate being and let go of doing. (All of which makes my work better when I return!)

Sabbatical resets my inner compass. When I come home, I feel lighter and more inspired. I make more wholehearted choices. I connect more deeply.

If you’re reading this thinking, “There’s no way I could unplug for that long. It’s not possible,” please take a pause. Maybe it is possible. As with anything we start small: 1 hour, then 1 day, then 1 week, then who knows? Or we stick with 1 hour and that small change makes a big difference.

The pandemic has us super-plugged-in. As we slowly emerge from the pandemic winter, as our tender hearts open, it’s refreshing to have reflective time in three-dimensional spaces. Whatever nourishes your heart, I wish that for you!