My sabbatical in review
A bit of a rollercoaster
It’s the end of the year – a good time for a review. But instead of reviewing 2024, I want to look back at the past 18 months, which have been quite a ride. My sabbatical just ended, and it turned out to be messier, harder, and more transformative than I ever expected.
In May 2023, I stepped away from my role as Site Lead at Affirm’s Polish office. It was a job I loved, a challenge I’m proud of – growing the team from just me to 107 people! But after two intense years, my tank was empty, and I knew I needed a break. My plan? Take a few months to recharge, play with AI, maybe go on a cool vacation, and then dive into the next big thing. Simple, right?
Not so much. Five weeks into my sabbatical, life decided to throw me a curveball. My wife and I faced a devastating pregnancy loss. Oh, and this was in Poland, where reproductive rights were, let’s say, “challenging.” Navigating the process safely and legally added a whole new layer of stress to an already brutal situation. To make things worse, my wife had complications, followed by another life-threatening health scare just a few months later. We got through it, but the experience left me shaken.
And it gave me the time and space to stumble into a little existential crisis. I was no longer an engineer, a director, or anything else tied to work – at least temporarily. So who was I? A job title might be an imperfect answer to that question, but it’s an easy and socially acceptable one. Without it, I felt untethered, unsure how to define myself. I had the runway to sit with these questions and really think them through – even if it wasn’t the most comfortable experience, especially as I came to terms with just how much I’d relied on my job to define myself.
Enter meditation, which became one of the defining activities of my time off. I’d been dabbling in it for years, but with all the chaos in my life, it turned into a lifeline. Hospitals aren’t exactly fun, but they’re surprisingly good places for sitting quietly and sorting out your brain – and that’s a welcome break from constant worry about your wife. Meditation helped me navigate the hardest times, and once life settled down, I kept going.
I even attended retreats (the silent, sit-on-a-cushion-for-days kind). One was in Sri Lanka – because if you’re going to have a midlife crisis, why not make it tropical? Jokes aside, I found that sometimes physical travel – especially when it takes you far out of your comfort zone – can spark profound mental shifts. Slowly but surely, defining myself through my job started to feel more and more silly.
Outside of meditation, I rediscovered things I love like programming or reading philosophy. I listened to a lot of classical music. I kept up with lifting weights and playing Go, changed my dietary habits, and even stopped drinking alcohol completely. None of it was flashy, but building and sticking to these habits brought a sense of purpose and balance during a turbulent time.
And then came the job search. Oh boy. To be honest, I didn’t expect any difficulties – after all, I had all that cool experience! Turns out, the tech job market had gone a little bit Hunger Games while I wasn’t looking. Management (and especially senior management) roles hiring went down significantly, and with all the tech layoffs there were way more candidates competing for fewer roles. Most of my career had taken place during either good or great times for the tech industry, so being ghosted by recruiters was a completely new – and not particularly enjoyable – experience. Thankfully, I had enough runway to keep my standards high, and eventually, I landed a job I’m genuinely excited about. That said, the process was frustrating and, at times, pretty demoralizing. But – and I admit this grudgingly – it was probably good for me. Humbling, in a way I didn’t realize I needed.
So, here I am – on the other side of my sabbatical. In hindsight, one could argue my timing wasn’t exactly ideal. I left a stable, well-paying job and essentially went off the grid for over a year, just as the job market took a nosedive. Not only did I stop earning (which, let’s be honest, has long-term effects thanks to the magic of compound interest), but I also burned through a significant portion of my savings. And yet, I wouldn’t change a thing – at least not the parts I had control over.
I see my sabbatical as an investment. Just as people invest in grad school to advance their careers, I invested in my mental health and well-being. And this investment pays dividends both inside and outside the office.
