A chilled acai bowl on a Tuesday morning after a yoga class has become a ritual. An act of self care. A proud claim on the freelancing lifestyle that describes my last eight months.
Besides mid-morning yoga classes, I take my time in the grocery store during business hours when the world is working. I enjoy morning bike rides in the opposite direction of the city commute. I work on Sundays without guilt because sometimes that truly is my most productive time. I save my weeks for me.
I also consult with nonprofit organizations to design and refine their revenue strategies, train and hire development staff, and (hopefully) leave a lasting impact on their ability to drive operations with greater efficiency, intuition and outcomes. While I love acai bowls and cycling, I care just as much about channeling my energy in service to projects that result in greater equity for all humans and environmental conservation. This “working sabbatical” of mine over the past eight months has been equal parts rejuvenating, reflective and industrious.
Attraversiamo
I have always loved this word since reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s famed Eat, Pray, Love in 2010. In Gilbert’s words, I recall the phrases “let us cross over, let us experience” in how she described this Italian word when her book was flying off the shelves almost a decade ago. Attraversiamo feels appropriate to my current reality, in its notion of pivoting one’s trajectory as an act of honoring her instincts to pursue meaningful change.
Time has expanded in ways I couldn’t have projected eight months ago, when I left a job heading up a regional organization with a multi-million dollar budget, a 40+ staff, a 30+ board and a generous, expansive donor community. The previous summer, we were closing our fiscal year and concluding a major change management project. I had been reflecting on my next chapter as well as my longterm commitment to environmental conservation (which was a different field than my work at the time). I found the right moment in my job to provide notice, give a few months’ transition time, and partner with the team and board to ensure the organization’s ongoing success. As a result, I enabled a new professional chapter to center on my love of conservation and community development, and to account for new parameters for how I wanted to live my life. It was a leap, from both a field and an organization, to achieve a not-yet-identified next gig. By the measures of some peers who solely evaluate themselves (and others) by titles and totem poles, it was probably considered a professional step back. On my most self-doubting days, I wondered if it was a step back too. But I trusted that I was stepping forward into my own life, the best (and only) race that matters. That’s the funny thing about listening to instincts: the conventional measures of achievement dilute when I surrender to the fluidity of real life, heartful conversations and the art of exploring.
A working sabbatical
While this blog post isn’t about a road trip in Namibia or boat hopping in Brazil, it is about an adventure during which I reflected on aspects of my professional life in ways similar to how I reflect while traveling the world. During my working sabbatical, I did my usual “internal audit” after concluding a job or major project: identifying successes, getting honest with my hangups and their origins, reflecting on my areas for growth, and reclaiming my confidence and my strengths. I have a track record of creating lists, so no surprise that my “sabbatical spirit body” copied a professional competency and ran with it. I was able to celebrate as well as take ownership, thanks to those lists. I selected what I wanted to keep and grow in the next chapter, and what I needed to release in order to be free going forward.
I flexed a few muscles during this time, including my networking tickle bone. I probably spent the equivalent of 10 weeks straight taking meetings over breakfast, lunch, dinner, drinks and coffee talking to people. My career has been strengthened by my interest in meeting new people, understanding their worlds and wondering together if there are future opportunities to collaborate or, at a minimum, keep in touch because we enjoy our company. I took my extroverted skill of outreach and correspondence, and made it a part-time job to seek out conversations with all kinds of people. I had a list of contacts (no surprise), time set aside on a daily basis, and a ritual for outreach quota every week. I truly believe that when you meet interesting, engaging people committed to their work, a cause, a community, it’s worth the time to visit with them, even if traditional pathways for partnership are not immediately visible. But it takes time and some organization, and I designated both. My work to date has enabled exposure to all kinds of projects — orangutans in Borneo, Olympic athletes volunteering in Palestinian refugee camps, cycling teams in Rwanda, climate-friendly eating, education equity in California. The dots connecting these topics are never obvious to anyone but me, and that’s all right. They come together based on conversations that surface when I wander the world and find others implementing ideas that inspire healthy human and planet living.
The rookie freelancer
I also flexed the muscle of uncertainty. No better way to do this eight months ago than to leave a job without another job lined up (gulp!). I started to work for myself because I wondered if I could market my skills in revenue strategy, donor and board development while directing my own schedule. Every business owner or freelancer has a heap of stories from going it alone, so my heap is relatively small given the brief timeframe. But during my sabbatical, I grappled with my relationship with financial security, self-reliance and independence, and all the great and all the ugly moments that come with those qualities in extreme. I established an amazing primary client and picked up some interesting, abbreviated gigs along the way too. I developed an LLC, paid too much money for it, and later dissolved it. I paid for my own health insurance and slurped a few layers off my savings account. As a solo nonprofit Jedi, I encountered my rusty skills and became more appreciative of past teams with whom I had worked over the past eight years in a senior leadership role. I jumped in on a film project about the first Nepali woman to ascend Mount Everest; I consulted with a 21st century Mad Men executive; joined a new nonprofit board working with low income food entrepreneurs; and signed up for a multi-day road biking trip in the San Juan Islands next month. It’s been a wild ride.
For me, freelancing taught me that conversations become contracts. Interests become commitments. Creating was a new way of living. I found contentment where curiosity, adventure and flexibility overlap. I didn’t have those words in November 2017, when I began this sabbatical with a trip to the Patagonia region in Chile and Argentina, but I have those words now. And I have collected mental notes on how I will live along the way going forward.
My collection to date
First, I’ve learned the value of unscheduled time. My extroverted spirit has a lifelong habit of overscheduling in work and life, and while this habit has been integral to seeing much of the world and getting involved with some incredible projects, it’s also exhausted me beyond a reasonable threshold. Since last November, my best days were the ones where I reduced my plans and respectfully declined social opportunities unless they really sang to me. I diminished my penchant for feeling guilty when saying no. I reconnected with a few old friends. I found a few new friends who I’ve known forever. My vibrancy came from showing up with deeper focus with those I love or admire (or both), than in the moments packed together where I had many conversations but connected with very few people. My dear friend, Kate, has a great phrase that has become a mantra: create space to let good things happen. This is so true.
Second, I’ve learned that you can never over-appreciate natural beauty. I put my phone down more often on the ferry commute and the bus rides around the city because I’m inspired by the incredible natural and human beauty surrounding us everyday. In a thirty minute ride, sea lions can crest the waters surface, egrets can skip across the ocean, and the golden gates look beautiful in all types of weather. One morning, we were delayed due to the ferry captain wanting to slow down since his radio indicated that there were whales nearby. What?! This is where I live. No phone or tablet can provide such magic as a whale crossing my work commute on Monday morning.
Third, I have realized how temporary our lives are, making every moment precious and fleeting. A dear friend and mentor recently shared the phrase, “tomorrow is promised to no one,” which has become foundational to my decision-making. Recognizing the temporary moment that is our lifetime positions all the bullshit, the naysayers, the negativity of others as tangential to the present moment. I recently said to my partner, “Love, I just want us to have the time of our lives.” No professional goal can surpass this profound but simple instinct. During my sabbatical, I have confronted my parents’ mortality and declining health, sent condolences for the passing of a former leader at my last organization, supported a friend whose 40-something husband died tragically in an accident, and welcomed new babies for several friends. I have sailed through moments where loved ones are celebrating wonderful arrivals or sitting in the grief of tremendous loss. These moments of true living require a non-renewable emotional currency that I spend wisely.
Fourth, I have decided that the age of 40 is young, old, seasoned and fresh all at once. I celebrated my 40th birthday last month with a big garden party. It was a special night since it was my first co-hosted dinner party with my partner. We had creme brulee cupcakes, live music, and food from a local taqueria. Friends brought their kids and dogs, and we danced in the yard under the redwoods. It was cold in the way the Bay Area gets cold in June, but it was marvelous. Through that gathering and over the course of my birthday month, I have reckoned with the collective mainstream narrative of this age for women (e.g. the discouraging tone about women aging out of fertility, into middle age and out of their “prime,” whatever that means). It’s the first milestone where I’ve wondered if I need to revamp my living framework upon which I have built my adult life, which is to follow my curiosities, realize dreams, and prioritize adventure. I’ve decided to keep doing all of that with an open heart and mind, mixed in with a heap of humility and yoga to keep the muscles supple. That is all.
Fifth, I curate my life by curating my company and deepening my commitments to loved ones. I have always loved hosting dinner parties. The act of inviting those I love to gather round a table and make room for great food and conversation is divine. It’s a simple and traditional idea, yet it’s remarkably missing in daily life, I find. The power of authentic connection has surfaced in spades for me during this time out of the full-time work force, and with it, the reminder that space is as much about refining my “emotional toolbox” as it is about freeing up time on my calendar. Through this experience, I’ve been more deliberate on how and with whom I share my time, who to make space for at my dinner table. Inevitably, this means releasing one-way relationships and shifting my energy to thrive in the flyways of the folks who show up and engage.
Sixth, embracing humility and getting out of my ego’s way is quantum. By stripping away a professional identity and title, I realized how much of my working self was all I had. I had established my self worth and sense of contribution through professional role(s), networks and impact even as I prided myself on a busy calendar and well-stamped passport. After I left my job and returned from Patagonia, I noted the professional meetings I was able to secure through my network, compared to those which felt no longer available without a professional title and affiliation. In turn, I discovered the importance of defining my own identity so that the assumptions of others wouldn’t do so instead. By releasing a level of influence that comes from visible leadership positions, I learned to rely on my own wisdom, judgment and instincts in business negotiations and interviews. I believed in my experience — this was essential to get any consulting gigs — and I got creative about how I introduced myself professionally. I wrestled with my arrogance and added new words to my vocabulary. I learned to pause before speaking and making commitments, something high pressure roles do not always enable nor reward.
Seventh, I healed my body and took stock of my health since this is the basis for everything else to thrive. In 2017, I was living in chronic pain as a result of severe inflammation and sciatica. Descending my three-floor building to catch the commuter bus two blocks away felt daunting. Commuting from San Francisco to Oakland felt like transferring to another continent with all the steps and transitions between my doorstep and my office. It was a challenging situation for me, given my deep connection to athleticism and wellness. My inner college athlete self was ashamed and self-judging. Once I hit a bottom where I knew a daily intake of 2000 mg of ibuprofen would not solve this, I enlisted in my own pain management. Inquiring to friends, exploring doctor referrals, working with different chiropractors, collaborating with a master of traditional Chinese medicine, receiving acupuncture and changing my diet, a shift began. Besides finding pain relief over a six month timeframe, I also rediscovered my health and mortality. I reclaimed my power and signed up to take better care of myself, I’m the only one who can.
And lastly (for now), I’m learning to honor the space that love, partnership and family require to flourish. Following a respectful divorce eight years ago, I have lived a hundred lives since picking out a china pattern at Macy’s and planning a wedding. I used to have job that would require 2-5 flights a month to places like New York, Boston, Toronto, London, Park City and Los Angeles. Before that role, I was hosting donors in field sites in Latin America and Asia 3-5 times a year. I have been on the road a long time, with and without a partner, and the time required to adequately show up for someone else and let love flourish has been a personal hurdle for me for years. Having found love and cultivated a new partnership in the past 10 months after seven years of singlehood, the predominant theme is the importance of making time for love and family. This means a commitment in speaking and acting from an origin of love. Being present in the fun. Keeping the dialogue going even when it’s hard and I feel like distracting myself by building a busy calendar. Being grateful for the fortunes of love, family and connection that I have in my life. Returning to love and my commitment to family, even in the moments when I feel unseen or mischaracterized. Keep returning to love. As my sister-in-law, Kira, mentioned this past weekend, we can never have too much love. And she’s right.
I recently gave a toast at a celebration for my parents and their 40th wedding anniversary. I expressed that they were the ones who taught me that people love and give in ways they know with what they have at a given moment. My Mom and Dad lived this way all along the way. Now, my personal work is establishing love as the origin of every interaction I have, personal and professional. Giving and loving to others and myself in ways I know how, and with all I have.
There’s a whole bunch of work-type reflections I carry too, like how to enable the blessing of “the good” rather than bowing to the “devil of perfection,” and so forth. But the reflections delineated here are the lasting ones that resonate most deeply in looking eight months behind me and forever forward. My next chapter of professional impact and personal growth starts today, in the conservation field and doing what I do, which is connecting donors to people and projects that will have a lasting impact on our planet. Onward.