Want to design your own mini-sabbatical practice?

Jul 15

Helping clients plan sabbaticals with creative intention and true rest comes up often with my coaching clients. I think back to my own sabbatical before stepping into a department chair role. I’m so grateful I took that year (even with partial pay) because it took months just to unwind from the constant overing and hustle. Only in the second half of that year did I learn what a sabbatical is really meant to be: active, creative rest.

The word sabbatical comes from Sabbath. Its origin is rest and renewal. Yet modern sabbaticals have drifted far from this wisdom. Too often, they’re framed as breaks from regular duties, but with an expectation to ramp up productivity elsewhere: Fulbrights, major research projects, finishing books, launching big new initiatives. For professionals and administrators, the breaks may be shorter but just as intensive. Institutions increasingly grant sabbaticals only if they see measurable benefit for themselves, not necessarily for your well-being or your work’s regenerative potential. Institutions measure worthiness by output, not well-being. Hardly restful.

Originally, sabbaticals mirror how farmers let fields lie fallow every seventh year. This practice, inspired by the biblical Shmita, allows the land to regenerate its nutrients, restore its fertility, and grow cover crops that protect and heal the soil. The field isn’t empty; it’s alive in its rest.

In a world of chronic burnout, waiting seven years just to recover is unsustainable. That’s toxic mainstream resilience, the myth that you should bounce back to endless output. True resilience means adapting and transforming in relationship with your world–and honoring that your energy changes, your priorities shift, and at some point you deserve to live rooted in what truly matters.

This is why I’m experimenting with mini fallowed fields: sabbatical days, sabbatical weeks, everyday pauses to restore and re-seed. Because your life shouldn’t have to wait seven years for rest.

Now, long out of academia and without built-in summers off, I still need something that gives me rest from the day-to-day while also supporting focused, creative, regenerative work.

How You Can Design Your Own Regenerative Sabbatical Rhythm

Inspired by Trudi Lebron’s 7th Week Sabbatical practice, here are some simple ways you can experiment with your own version:

1. Define your cycle.

Try a 6-weeks-on, 1-week-off rhythm: regular work for six weeks, then take the seventh as a sabbatical week with a focus. Honestly mine have not exactly followed strictly this timeline but more loosely dependent upon holidays or other life and work events.
Or start smaller: choose a Sabbatical Friday every week or half day. One day with no meetings, calls, or client/student delivery. This is a great option for folks who work in a more traditional office setting.

2. Make it a true pause, not a secret catch-up.

No standing meetings.
No client calls or delivery work.
No big launches or new programming.
Protect the space fiercely, just like you would a vacation.

This was a hard one for me. My first round in February was full of meetings and doctor’s appointments. I learned a lot about what not to do during that round because it left me craving for the time I had said I would give myself.

3. Give yourself creative regenerative freedom.

Use your sabbatical time for what nourishes you:

Read or learn something new.
Take a nap, daydream, or wander outside.
Play with creative ideas you never have time for.
Plan ahead if that feels spacious, but only if you want to.
Travel or simply stay still.

My March one was during kiddo’s spring break so I actually craved spending the bulk of the week outside getting a jump start on spring yard and garden projects. I rebuilt garden beds and a new dining deck. It was really nourishing at that moment.

And for my July, I’ll be attending a training next week with Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés, who wrote Women Who Run with Wolves. I’m very excited to use my time to deep dive into new ideas and inspiration. That feels like rich creative nourishment for my soul and work.

4. Stay lightly available (but only for true urgencies).

If you work with a team, consider doing this model together. In which case, you might ask folks to keep an eye on email for urgent issues, but make it clear that the default is no urgent issues.

I have a client who is a high-level administrator on a 5-week administrative sabbatical. She created office hour time slots each week so that her staff could ask questions and get help prioritizing their work. This created a system to protect her time and reduce urgencies that might interrupt her focus.

5. Remember: it’s not vacation, it’s fallow time.

This is not about squeezing in more work somewhere else. It’s about letting your inner soil rest so fresh growth can happen next season.
Take your cues from nature’s cycles and how the seasons transition.

6. Adapt it for your reality.

None of my attempts have gone ideally and that’s okay. What they have done is made me very conscious about how I’m organizing my calendar and where I’m putting my creative rest and rejuvenation time (or not).

Ask yourself: