Lessons from Sabbatical - Week 2

Week 2 was about grief. On Wednesday (Ash Wednesday, by some warped coincidence), I learned that a friend and colleague died, and I learned that my next-door neighbour died. And to add insult to injury, my car didn’t die, but it entered the palliative stage of life, which means that I’m also car shopping a year or so earlier than I had hoped. (To be fair, Prezley the Impreza has 290,000km on the odometer so doesn’t owe me anything at this point.)

I did break my church communication sabbath this week, as a couple of colleagues reached out to me to make sure that I had heard about Alison; and then I joined some of them on a video call on Friday night so that we could grieve together.

We, as people who deal professionally with grief, tend not to grieve well ourselves.

 

As Kendall observed, to have a video chat full of ministers and none of us had anything to say, in itself says how profound our grief is.

 

So I don’t know if this post is about “lessons” from sabbatical, but is rather “observations” about grief.

 

I am going to miss Catria. Conversations over the fence. A smile and wave driving past. A knock on my back door saying “I felt like a glass of wine but I didn’t want to drink alone.” And on top of that the most fabulous cat-sitter – Nuru, who usually doesn’t like having anyone other than me in the house used to roll over at her feet and ask for belly rubs.

 

God of Incarnation, hear my prayer; even when I don’t know what my prayer is.

 

 

“From dust you have come,

and to dust you shall return.”

Lessons from Sabbatical - Week 1

Today was day 7 of a 3-month sabbatical that began on February 1. My primary goal for this time off is rest – it’s been an exhausting almost-4 years of leadership in a pandemic. The first couple of years of the pandemic were marked by a continual demand on creativity as we figured out how to do everything differently; continual vigilance as we monitored the public health situation and the always-changing public health restrictions and regulations; and continually holding any plans loosely as we always had to be prepared to pivot with short notice.

 

Two lessons stand out from this first week of rest:

 

1)   As much as I frequently proclaim that we are “human beings” and not “human doings,” this is easier said than done. Now that my only job is to be, it is really hard to ascribe worth to being rather than to doing. Letting go of the need to be productive is hard.

 

2)   The spaciousness of time. With only minimal demands on my time, I don’t need to be stingy with the minutes and hours of each day. Time is no longer a resource to be hoarded. I can let myself go to bed at a decent hour because I will have more time tomorrow to continue what I am doing tonight. I can give myself permission to do things that are fun and that make me feel good, like singing and exercising every day. My next learning should probably be around figuring out how to carry this spaciousness into post-sabbatical life, but for now I’m just going to enjoy it.

 

 

My supervisors, ensuring that I am resting!