Year One of My Sabbatical: Notes on The Great Resignation, Ikigai and Everyday Courage?

I was part of the early cohort of full-time working professionals who resigned during the first wave of the pandemic in mid-2020 (and haven't yet gone back to the work stream). Here's what's been cooking at my end.

A desire to study further (behavioral science) coupled with a reassessment of my career goals, and the need to recharge (having worked 17+ years) nudged me to move from full-time to part-time, and eventually, towards an indefinite break from work. I told myself (as well as friends and family) that this break would last only a couple of months and before long, I would be plunging headlong into another challenging gig as a marketing and content pro.

In the initial months, I slowed down to appreciate my change in circumstances and pace (no more early morning rush hours and oddly timed Zoom meets). I smelled the flowers, devoured books on my mile-high #ToBeReadPile, chased the clouds and dragonflies (my childhood hobby), and became a first time ?? plant mommy ??. I took the effort to prepare healthy meals, got reacquainted with yoga and power walking, and spent time connecting with friends and peers whom I had missed. So far, great!

At the time, I didn't have a clue about what being on a sabbatical entailed and how it would change my perspective on not just work, but my sense of self, aspirations, and future trajectory. More importantly, I hadn't realized that there could be no timeline to determine the right amount of time needed to heal. We human beings very neatly compartmentalize sabbaticals into neat little buckets; think, 'short-term' (less than 6 months), 'mid-term' (around a year and more) and 'long-term' (2+ years). Sabbaticals, however, do not need to fit a timeline or purpose and they don't need to be paid, or part of your company's employee benefits. You get to decide the contours of your sabbatical in the way that it would help you the most.

Those initial few months was just the beginning of a series of epiphanies, one that was being experienced not just by me alone, but by communities, groups, peers, friends, and people across the world.?I certainly couldn't have predicted that my sabbatical would stretch to 365 days and that along the way, a lot of the assumptions I had held on to - about work, success, fulfilment, and aspirations - would undergo a shakedown!

Some of the toughest lessons that I stumbled upon had to do with:

• Reassessing my self worth beyond the kaching ??
• Renewing my commitment to my core values aka Ikigai ??
• Redefining what courage means to me ??

Reassessing Self Worth

For someone who had self-identified as a workaholic and a consummate professional for two decades, the sabbatical meant not having fixed schedules, productivity trackers, and a team to lead. In the absence of a designation, quarterly appraisal, peer validation, or client feedback, I felt rudderless and missing essential pieces of the 'self worth' puzzle. Then the dawning realization following weeks of internal conflict and agitation: My self worth and value cannot be - should not be - determined by my professional associations, pursuits or designation.

My self worth has to be shaped by my personal benchmarks, my values and actions that I define as worthy. This could mean being consistent with my exercise routine, practicing creativity through writing, mentoring young professionals, caring for pets and plants, or being mindful about my food choices. A day could be worthy and well-lived if I could even attend to one of these goals mindfully.

Configuring my core values

Not having paid work as a form of validation hits us all deep. Our sense of achievement is fueled by monetary incentives, bonuses, and annual hikes. I am no different and this continues to be a struggle for me even today. But the sabbatical afforded me the time and space to introspect about my existing values as a human (woman, feminist, friend, partner, seeker), reflect upon the moments in life when I was truly fulfilled outside of work, and zero in on a (even loosely bound) set of aspirations that could become an enduring mission for a purpose-led life.

These thoughts and ideas don't emerge overnight and neither does this Venn diagram of values remain constant everyday. It is not easy to wean off the adrenaline kick that comes from seeing "INR xx credited to your account" at the end of each month. There were (will be) days of doubts, days when I fell off this Zen-like throne, days and weeks when I crave(d) the "the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition" (V for Vendettta, anyone?). I have to reiterate to myself that these are the very patterns I am looking to break. That work-obsessed lifestyle with no larger-than-work mission doesn't align with my core values.

Redefining Courage

Prior to the sabbatical, whenever I would read about the 40-50+ year old gritty entrepreneurs as well as today's savvy Gen Z + Millennial start-up founders, I would think of them as fearless. They had something extra special going on in the "risk taking" department of their guts, which allowed them to take their lifesavings and invest it in a business, or approach a bank for a business loan, or promise credible returns to their investors. The anxiety of having to pay employees and turn in a profit, while adhering to the market forces, media scrutiny, and industry competition required a teflon-coated tummy.

Six months into my sabbatical, I dared to dream about kickstarting a business centered on sustainable fashion and grassroots craft practices. This brought together several of my passions and inclinations: arts, crafts, and history; sustainability and the environment; entrepreneurship and collaboration; design, technology, and marketing - all under a unified umbrella that would challenge me, move me, and that would align with my personal values aka Ikigai. ?

So, did I grow an extra pair of 'courage' chromosomes? Did I drink a 'gutsy' tonic to improve my risk-taking ability? Obviously not! Instead of viewing their decisions as larger-than-life, Mission Impossible-style bold narratives, let's break their actions down into tiny, progressive, incremental risk-taking steps. Doesn't sound sexy, I know, but it gets the job done.

When my business was just a spark of an idea, hatched in the rooftop of my ancestral home (in the tiny village of Eruvadi in the south Indian state of Tamil Nadu), I didn't take action for several months following that brainwave. Why? Because of decision paralysis and the overwhelming sense of having to figure all the big ticket, big risk, big ask thingies. Where do I source the raw materials from? Why is the business model different, unique and sustainable? What stake do the artisans have and how do we pay them? What about logistics and delivery? And content and marketing - the very domain I have been involved in for the last decade - it's going to be a blood bath out there, competing with other fashion brands in India.

What finally shook me out of this inertia was breaking down the mammoth idea into tiny, incremental, progressive (one step leads to the next) plan that could be tackled, against which I could assign a timeline and allocate resources (people, budget, permissions). It was about taking one courageous step at a time. It took me upwards of a year to begin product photography, launch a website, kickstart the Instagram account, and craft a simple catalogue, but I got there.

More importantly, I defined what courage and risk meant to me. There isn't a universal benchmark for what courage under fire looks like -- you have to be your own hero! There are days and occasions when the echo chamber of social media coupled with the e-commerce system (increasing ads, campaigns, ad spends, growth hacking) overwhelms and makes me wonder about the outcome and returns of this venture. Over and over again, it's a battle to refocus on my core values and to remember why I arrived at this point. No one said being a hero is going to be easy.

Nothing is Linear

I didn't devote an entire year and all my waking hours to my business. I enjoyed learning about new marketing technology, social media and digital platforms and participated in advanced marketing workshops and bootcamps. I enrolled for courses on sustainable business practices and the crafts entrepreneurship. I consulted with a few start-ups to help them with brand strategy and audience growth. I pitched a whole series of articles on sustainable fashion for the consumer and the planet.

My peers and friends ask me if I will ever get back to full time work or chase a 'vice president of marketing' designation? How long will my sabbatical last and what do I want to do next? Assessing how the journey should continue is an ongoing practice without any definite stops. Rather than think in binary terms of either this (business) or that (full-time employee), the Ikigai framework acts as a tool to assess whether our choices align with our values. I would love to work with mission-driven organizations and help them connect with their audiences through impactful storytelling. At the same time, I am going to nurture my business towards becoming a mission-driven enterprise itself. The Ikigai Venn diagram doesn't make both these aspirations mutually exclusive.

What Moves You?

?? #TheGreatResignation is a double pun that not only focuses on the 'quitting' bit, but also the pervasive feeling of doom, anxiety, exhaustion, helplessness, and toxicity that so many of us were *resigned* to in our work environments. Until that is, the pandemic forced us to pause, reassess, and evaluate our choices.

The trend towards #TheGreatResignation continues. Microsoft’s 2021 Work Trend Index predicts that a whopping 40% of the global workforce will consider leaving their current employers in 2022.?How fulfilled are you with your work / your workplace and how do you see the next year playing out for you professionally and personally? Are there interests and hobbies you love to spend time on, which have absolutely nothing to do with making money? What moves you outside of work?