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Reflections on a Sabbatical

October 23rd, 2025

I turned 50 during my recent three-month sabbatical and for my birthday, my children gave me the top above, in recognition of the phrase being one I regularly exclaim. For the eagle eyed, the asterisk is a ‘conversation starter’ (another phrase I’m prone to utter). The asterisk is effectively a caveat, as I believe that if you know yourself and are comfortable with yourself, there are some things that you don’t need to have a go at to know they’re not for you.

The phrase aptly sums up the motivation for my recent sabbatical. There were no ‘once in a lifetime’ activities, or key life decisions, I wanted to accomplish. I simply wanted to find out what happens when I have three months away from paid work. Here are some of my reflections:

Privilege Can Pose a Conundrum

It was an incredible privilege to take three months off paid work and given the state of the world, I did question whether a sabbatical was the best use of the resources it would consume. Yes, I had spent over 10 years adopting a lifestyle that enabled me to save enough to accommodate so much time off, but I believe that even being able to save is a privilege. Yes, I felt tired and in need of a rest after 20 years of being primarily responsible for my livelihood: being not only the sole trainer/mentor, but also the CEO, CFO, CTO, COO, cleaner and more. At the same time, there are many advantages of working for myself and I believe that having the ability to do so is another privilege.

I don’t think and feel there is a definitive answer to the conundrum of privilege, but the sabbatical did reinforce my belief that so much of one’s privilege is an ‘accident of birth’. Where you are born, the family you’re born into, your skin colour, gender, physique/genetics are all massive determinants of privilege. Furthermore, these factors have a significant influence on the people you then meet and develop relationships with, which leads on to the second reflection.

What is Truly Valuable is Rarely Done Completely Alone

My sabbatical started with a holiday in France with seven school friends, some of whom I’ve known for over 45 years. It’s difficult to convey the love and gratitude I have for such long lasting relationships. A tangible indication though is that my daily number of laughs increased dramatically the first day we were together, then rose nearly exponentially for the remainder of our time together, only to fall back to pre-holiday levels when we said our goodbyes.

There was also an incredible ease in such an environment. I could go seamlessly from whole group activities to sub-group activities to solo activities. Yet even solo activities were not truly solo. Being able to run up an alpine mountain was made possible because several of my friends took charge of the location of our holiday. My ability to have a sauna, was due to one of my friends searching and securing accommodation that had sauna facilities. Bringing it back to work, when I looked round the dinner table each night, I saw several people who have repeatedly supported mch over the last 20 years: one has done the company’s financial accounts each year, several helped refine mch’s branding and website. In terms of mch’s four-fold approach to running a business, volunteering in Calais after the holiday was greatly aided by two friends being willing to drive to and from France and drop me off in Calais.

A Tweak to the Usual Way of Doing Things Can Provide Real Insight

As just intimated, immediately after the holiday, I spent a week in Calais in Northern France, volunteering with two charities that assist refugees who are stranded there. This is something I have done over half a dozen time before. On all previous occasions though, I volunteered for between one and three days. Volunteering for six days may not seem significantly more than three, but the added time proved remarkably insightful. For example, I experienced the incredibly transient nature of volunteering from a new perspective. Over a five-day period, 35 people volunteered with one of the charities I was with, and of those, only seven volunteered for all five days. This meant that on the fifth day, I was genuinely one of the most experienced volunteers. Managing to operate with such a transient workforce gave me an additional level of respect for the organisations concerned.

When Philosophy Meets Practicality Tensions Can Arise

The big experiment of the sabbatical was a 10-day silent ‘retreat’. Interestingly, the organisers used the word ‘course’, rather than ‘retreat’ and on reflection, I quite agree with them. Indeed, for me, the word ‘retreat’ is a complete misnomer, as the experience proved a full-on battle between one way of thinking/living and another.

The course is likely to be the subject of future posts, but a key insight was that whilst I agreed wholeheartedly with much of the course’s philosophy, I couldn’t ‘get on board’ with the one size fits all approach to practicing/living it. For example, the premise that suffering is invariably caused by craving or aversion sits very well with me. So too does the belief that a more peaceful society depends on individuals becoming more equanimous with their thoughts and feelings. What I wasn’t so sure about was whether a regime with the following characteristics was the best way to start practicing such a philosophy:

• Wake up at 4.00am and conduct 12 hours of meditation/instruction
• Have no contact with the ‘outside’ world: no phones, no TV, no radio, no newspapers, no leaving the premises
• Have no reading or writing materials
• Conduct no exercise, other than walking
• Adopt complete silence with fellow participants and act as if they are not there

I certainly felt a sense of irony that what I had to work hardest at being equanimous about on the 10-day course was the disappointment and unhappiness at being on the 10-day course!

Ambivalence is Still a Reaction Worth Reflecting Upon

At the beginning of the sabbatical, several people asked what I was most looking forward to doing/experiencing. My consistent answer was;

“I’m really interested to find out how I’ll feel when I return to work. Will I be eager, or reluctant to return?”

The reality is that I’ve been neither. I felt and thought next to nothing about work whilst on sabbatical. Consequently, when the time came to return, there weren’t any feelings and thoughts to reflect upon. I felt ambivalent, albeit from the perspective of genuinely enjoying my work and finding it both rewarding and purposeful. In some respects, I found this disappointing. Practicing the equanimity encouraged on the 10-day course though, I’m approaching such ambivalence with curiosity and a belief that such a feeling will not last forever. To this end, it may prove most interesting to reflect on how I feel three months after returning from sabbatical. Furthermore, it has been interesting to reflect on the feelings and thoughts I have had during the sabbatical, and these may also be the topic of future posts.

To conclude, if you are in the privileged position where a sabbatical is possible for you, I would recommend considering it. After all, if you don’t have a go, you’ll never know!*

Reflections on 20 Hours Doing ‘Nothing’

April 4th, 2024

“All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.”

Blaise Pascal, Philosopher and Mathematician

I came across this quote many years ago. It’s stuck because, for me, it highlights the potential ‘dark side’ of action. Whilst I consider it valid, it’s also challenging for someone like me who considers that ‘what we do is who we are’. I hasten to add though that why we do something, who we do it with/for, how we do it and where and when we do it are also crucial.

Having discussed this quote with others, an assumption often emerges, namely that if we sit quietly in a room alone, we’re effectively doing nothing. If you subscribe to the premise of ‘what we do is who we are’, the arresting conclusion is that if we do nothing, we are nothing.

I was keen to explore this further, but rather than sit alone in a room, I sat (and lay in a hammock) in woodland for 20 hours. During this time, I stayed within the same 15 square metres of woodland. I heard and saw no one else. I had no watch, no phone and no reading materials. I chose not to write or draw anything. I simply sat/lay and experienced day turn to night and then night turn to day. In the days leading up to it, I was apprehensive. I was worried I’d get really bored, to the point that it would be unpleasant.

Did I get bored? No.

Was it unpleasant? No. In fact, I would have been content to have stayed longer.

Did I do nothing? No. At times, I was taking care of basic needs such as eating and sleeping. At other times, I was intentional and meditated. For the most part though I simply absorbed what my senses perceived:

The smells of the forest and how they varied over the course of 20 hours.

The sensation of flies around my face (a free test of self-regulation if ever there was one).

The sound of bird song, deer movement and foxes communicating (very unexpectedly, very loudly and very early in the morning).

The differing shapes and colours of the trees.

Intermingled with this were a multitude of thoughts and feelings concerning people, places and things. Some were unsurprising, as they involved very current events in my life. However, many were far more obscure and left me wondering; ‘Why on earth did that pop into my mind?’

Was there enlightenment? Most certainly not! However, despite not sleeping very well, I felt energised and upbeat leaving the forest and for the remainder of the day.

Would I recommend it? / Would I do it again? Yes and Yes. If you do give it a go, I hope you find it insightful to explore what thoughts and feelings emerge when you allow yourself that amount of time in such an environment. Also, and without meaning to be clichéd, I hope you perceive it not as a case of getting away from it all, but instead getting back to it all.