I posted this on LinkedIn and Medium last week and boy did it go crazy. As of now, it has almost 235 ,000 views, 993 comments, 375 shares and 2,800 likes. It’s also spawned tons of LInkedIn, Facebook and Twitter messages. It’s been kind of crazy. Here it is, again, organized with some of my other Gap Year observances.
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When I announced in late 2014 that I was leaving my job as managing editor/vice president of the Chicago Tribune to take a career break, reactions were varied: confusion, suspicion, horror and grudging respect. Close friends were happy for me; others no doubt thought I was crazy.
But the thing people said most frequently, at least to my face, was: “Wow, I wish I could do that.” My response? “You actually can.” And I still do respond that way. Because 13 months later, I look back and am happy with my decision. I wouldn’t change a thing about it.
Before I go further, I must acknowledge that yes, I know that I am incredibly fortunate. A career break is a First World luxury that many people can only dream of because they work hard to barely scrape by. I never cease to be grateful for the hand I’ve been dealt in a world that is unfair and unjust in so many ways. I always strive to build on the opportunities and gifts given to me and to give something back in return.
Before leaving my job, I did a few things to prepare that I believe have made all the difference. They involved planning, lots of planning and a few extra plans. I wanted to go into my career break with a purpose and leave it a better person.
In hindsight, these were the most important steps I took:
Know thyself
Don’t leave in haste or in anger. I thought about this move for a long time, and I was confident I was making the decision for the right reasons.
If you’re a worrier who can’t handle uncertainty or risk, then this won’t be a very comfortable thing for you. But you can still do it. Just try to anticipate how you’ll react—you know yourself best– and set up things to inoculate yourself against doubt. I’m not a risk-averse person, but I still prepped on this front.
Before I left my job, I wrote down the reasons why it was time for me to move on from a job and a company that I absolutely loved and for which I still feel a great deal of loyalty. I’ve kept that document on my laptop in case I was ever struck with a case of regret. I’ve never opened it. But it’s comforting to know it’s there.
Because a few months after you leave a job, a fuzzy cloud emerges that obscures the sharp edges of your work memories. The danger is that you become wistful and regret what you did. But pop open that Word doc. See? You did have good reasons for your decision. You even wrote them down.
I also kept all the nice notes, tweets and messages people sent me when I left, all for future consultation if needed.
Financial planning
Besides a bit of emotional planning like what I described above, I planned for this move financially. If you’re not prescient enough to have saved your whole life for a gap year, then at least save during the months or years leading up to it.
Financial experts say it’s smart to have six months of your current salary saved in case you lose your job. I used mine during my break. I also made sure to clear all the debt I could. I felt more confident going into this break without a bunch of heavy debts breathing down my neck.
Finally, don’t forget to factor in health insurance. It’s expensive when you have to pay for it all yourself. Very expensive.
I frequently remind myself that the goal of a career is not simply to acquire a pile of money to collapse and die on at the end. At least that’s not my goal. So I’ve spent some of the money I saved without guilt.
Goals and lists
I wrote down a long list of things I wanted to accomplish on my break. Some was specific (learn to code), some was more vague (say yes to every invitation). I wanted my break to be purposeful. I wanted to recharge my creative batteries and pick up new skills, perspectives and friends.
That list has lived on my laptop all year, and I’ve crossed off things as I finished them. Naps and binge watching TV were also on the list. I’m no saint.
I put myself out there and met new people. I had drinks, coffees, lunches and dinners with so many people– old friends and new. I said yes to every invitation, whether I knew the person or not, and got back to the people who’d told me “we should get together ” in my last days at work.
I’ve especially enjoyed hanging out with former work colleagues without that whole “she’s my boss” tension hanging over the conversation.
Accountability
All of these lists play an important role. I knew that if I told myself and others what I planned to accomplish, then I’d be more likely to do it. Even my 2015 Christmas letter served as a sort of final report on my break.
I also made a Break Resume. I was so busy living life and gobbling up experiences that I started to forget all I’d done. So I’ve been keeping a running tally in resume form. For whom? Who knows. Myself, I guess.
Did it work?
Yes. I’ve had the best time. This year I’ve been able to indulge my rabid curiosity, learn new things, travel to new places and follow my own agenda for 13 months. I’ve thrown myself into my break like it was my job. I’ve hungrily collected experiences, big and small.
I’ve traveled around the U.S. and abroad. My husband and I lived in Paris for five weeks just to see what it was like (it was marvelous) and hosted friends and family in our rental apartments there.
I’ve learned so much this year. Like how to make ramen noodles from scratch and how to write basic computer code. I took improv classes at The Second City and built a web site for my hobby record label (sweetpearecords.net).
I’ve volunteered –- a lot. For various boards, my neighborhood elementary school and for an agency that sends books to women in prison. I gardened and arranged for long-overdue improvements to our house. It’s been an epic year.
But we Americans live to work, it seems, and the question I hear most frequently now is: What’s your next job going to be?
Which brings me to my final point.
Know when it’s time to move on from your break
Recently, I started coming to the end of my lists, and I’ve started to feel ready to head back out there. So I plan to start looking for work, be it full-time, temporary or consulting work. I’m open to lots of things.
I think it says something that in America, we don’t have a widely accepted term for what I did this year. Sometimes I call it my Gap Year, the one I never took after college. Other times I call it my Radical Sabbatical, which makes people giggle. At my most introspective, I think of this as what I’d do if a doctor told me I had just one year to live.
Here’s to the great unknown in 2016. I’m going to try to make it as enlightening as 2015 was.
In fact, that’s now on the list.
My Radical Sabbatical 