When I left work last June in a last-ditch attempt to get my health back on track, I didn’t give much thought to what would come next. I had no idea how long I’d be away or if what had interested me in the past would continue to hold my attention in the future. I suspected that the break was setting me up for something completely different, but also thought that when I started to feel better I’d probably just pick back up where I left off. After all, I’ve had a pretty successful career to this point, with the ability to do work I cared about and work I’m proud of.
Now that a little more than a year has passed, I’ve sat still long enough for the dust to settle and I’ve been quite surprised at what’s bubbled up. With an assist from the book Designing Your Life, I’m developing a better understanding of not so much what I want to do, but how I want it to look. After spending the past 15+ years in leadership positions, being in charge doesn’t hold the same significance as it used to. Being responsible for other people’s work and professional well-being is something I’ve always taken very seriously, but I’m unsure of what role it will play moving forward. I’d like to focus on my own work and my own interests for a while. And I think I’d enjoy going to work without concern for what everyone else is doing, or not doing as is sometimes the case.
Last winter, I applied to a graduate program in communication at the local university (Illinois State). Communication has played a prominent role in my work to-date, both as a leader and as a public health professional who collaborated with both stakeholders and community members. It’s not something I’ve had formal training in, but because I’ve worked for organizations with limited resources, I’ve often had to find my own way in this arena, leading to a considerable amount of informal research and way-finding. And with a sister who has a successful communications career and who recently completed this same graduate program (side note – while also working and starting a family, bad assery at its finest), I thought that if I was going to take a left turn in my work life, this might be a natural area to explore. I applied in January not knowing if I’d get accepted or if I’d actually pursue it if I did. I still felt like crap most of the time and was intimidated by the thought of starting anew.
Fast forward to late spring, I’ve been accepted to the program and decide to enroll, even though the thought of it is a bit terrifying. I’ve never been one to get hung up on age, but suddenly 42 feels very, very ancient when I consider how much technology has changed how we learn in the 18 years since completing my first master’s degree. We were just getting into email back then, and being able to request journal articles from the library from the comfort of my apartment was revolutionary. Earlier this week, I texted my sister to see if buying books at the bookstore was still a thing. But fear is a terrible reason to not do something, so I’m moving forward and trying not to overthink it (THIS IS NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE). I’m energized by the the opportunity to learn and excited about new opportunities. I know there will probably be a few other students like me, “old people” who are starting a second act or coming back to the workforce after time away.
I have orientation next Saturday and classes start on the 20th. This is the last official week of my sabbatical. With any luck, I’ll finish the program in May 2020 – 20 years since completing my first MS (I love this symmetry) – and be well on my way to a new career. Because my recovery is still quite tenuous, I’m “just” going to school for this year. I worked through both undergrad and grad school the first go-around, so this will be my first time focusing exclusively on being a student. It feels luxurious if I’m honest, the time and space to sit still and learn.
While this year would’ve been much more enjoyable had I been in good health for all of it, I feel extremely fortunate to have been able to take this time. I needed it for my health, but now that I’m on the other side of it, I can see that my head needed it too. I feel mentally invigorated and refocused. Brain fog was one of the earliest symptoms of this flare, so work – which had often been a source of much joy and satisfaction – had become one area where I was constantly forced to acknowledge how much my health was impacting my life. Unfortunately running was the other. Two things that I loved, and that facilitated much personal fulfillment, became a constant reminder of what had changed, what I’d lost. Running continues to be a struggle, but with classes starting soon at least I get to start using my better-functioning brain again. Feels like progress, as a former administrator used to say.
I wish our society created more opportunities for grown-ups to take a break, to take a sabbatical. Certain professions provide this I realize, but most don’t. I wonder how much more fulfilled and productive we’d be if we were able to take a time out when we needed it. For whatever reason. A time out that didn’t come with the threat of career uncertainty or financial ruin. Ideally, I would’ve been able to take this time to recover my health and gone back to my job. Thankfully, my husband has a good job and we’ve been financially prudent, so when everything came to a head I was able to step away. Most people don’t have this option. Not even for time off after a child is born. This could be a whole other post entirely, but suffice it to say that we must do better.
And since I mentioned it above, a brief update on running…which is basically a non-update. After some flashes of my old self earlier this spring, I hit a new snag a few weeks ago in the form of some significant digestive issues. I believe they are related to everything else, as for most people autoimmunity begins and ends in the gut. I’m taking some time away from running while I tweak my diet in hopes of bringing peace-and-harmony to my digestive system. Unfortunately this means I’m missing my favorite event of the year – Reach the Beach with my friends in September. It’s one more disappointment in the midst of years of disappointment. But because I’m an eternal optimist, I assume this is my last setback. That I’ll resolve my stomach issues and be back on the road in a month or two. And that with a year of training under my belt, that I’ll be back with my teammates next September, running on the ultra team and questioning my sanity at 2am.
“Part of being optimistic is keeping one’s head pointed towards the sun, one’s feet moving forward.” ~Nelson Mandela