Out of office: Five lessons my wonderful sabbatical taught me about life, work, and freedom
“Now that I’m free to be myself, who am I?”
This question has been weighing on my mind a lot lately.
It served as a compass during my recent 2.5-month break from work. I'm not sure whether that’s long enough to be called a sabbatical, but I’m calling it one. It’s the longest stretch in my 15-year professional journey without checking calendars, sitting in video calls, or wrestling with spreadsheets. (Spoiler: Their absence left no void whatsoever.)
As someone who has proudly labeled herself an "overachiever" more times than I’d care to admit, this break felt like an expedition into parts of myself I’ve long overlooked. Like everyone, I contain multitudes; this pause was the perfect chance to rediscover those forgotten facets. Was I nervous about what I might unearth? I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a little jittery.
When you hear "sabbatical," maybe you think of Mexico, Bali, or Thailand. All wonderful places, but my journey was inner, therefore not requiring a 14-hour flight. (Not that inner journeys can’t begin after a long-haul flight; I simply chose to stay put.). I split my time between two locations: Zurich and Valencia, with occasional detours, including a trip to my hometown of Slavonski Brod, Croatia.
The sabbatical began on a high note: an enchanting, once-in-a-lifetime Andrea Bocelli concert under the stars in Pula, Croatia. It was a night filled with pinch-me moments. Life felt sweet, magic eternal, and winter a distant thought. But just as I started my sabbatical in a breezy summer dress, I’m ending it bundled in a coat. Seasons have proverbially shifted, and as cliché as it sounds, the November Maja has wisdom to offer the September Maja, and perhaps, anyone else who might need it, with or without a sabbatical in mind.
Throughout this period, and as always, two people brought meaning to every moment and every place. A few random memories come to mind: Mom buying a dried autumn flower bouquet at the Dolac Market in Zagreb. Or, my partner’s sheer joy upon discovering a tiny marzipan store in Toledo. But not all of my memories were Instagrammable. I also recall caring for Mom when she was unwell, and the faint smile she gave me when I brought her the most beautiful orchid from the store. And I remember holding my man tightly at the Valencia airport, just days after the recent floods, which, though sparing the city itself, devastated many smaller towns in the region. As Leonard Cohen so beautifully expressed in words that I certainly can’t match: "As for the world, the job, the war... I ditched them all to love you more." Ditch them all, I did.
It's surprisingly simple. You and I are limited in actions, duration, and impact. What you can do is prioritize people who are so important to you that in comparison, everything else becomes mere background noise. Don’t just graciously award them time slots.
Then, beyond the people you consider family - and I’m a firm believer that family can be chosen- there are friends, old and new. During this beautiful period, I’ve reconnected with friends from around the world whom I hadn’t seen or heard from in years, as well as with those that I see more regularly. I was always available. And let's not forget the wider community: neighbors, classmates, people from the gym, the lovely ladies at my neighborhood bakery in Valencia, and the instructors at my Zurich spin studio. I must also mention how I’ve discovered so many new restaurants and cafes in Valencia and Zurich that I’ll need to update my recommendations and rewrite a few articles here on mucho mundo. The point is that matcha tastes better with a conversation, brunch is more delightful when shared with a friend, and dinner and drinks with someone who gives you belly laughs are always worth scheduling or spontaneously accepting.
(Matcha, brunch, spin - I know. I’m a millennial, I can’t and also don’t want to do anything about it, since I genuinely love matcha, brunch, and spin).
Who am I beyond my resume? That’s my leitmotiv of the year and this sabbatical provided the perfect opportunity for reflection. Interestingly, this year also marks my 20th anniversary of being an expat. I left my country as a wide-eyed student, and here I am, many countries, degrees, and jobs later, in my apartment, on my website, reflecting on a sabbatical. I’ve always been Type A, a fact anyone who’s known me since the age of six can confirm. But I’m also allergic to those events where people throw their job titles at you, expecting instant awe or connection in return. So naturally, presenting myself with a one-minute version of my CV isn’t something I feel particularly comfortable with, which might explain why I’m always the first to leave networking events. But I digress. What I’m trying to say is that “Maja, who loves true crime documentaries and long podcast walks, and has just recently watched all seasons of Friends to see what the hype was about 25 years ago” is as valid a presentation as “Maja, insert title at insert company.” The most valuable thing you and I can offer the world is our unabridged, unapologetic version, not just the corporate pitch on our LinkedIn profiles. (By the way, I get the fuss around Friends now—but I won’t be rewatching it anytime soon, especially now that sadly, my sabbatical is over.)
Speaking of Friends, I can shamelessly admit that I finally caught up on the books, TV shows, movies, albums, and documentaries lingering on my list for years. I am up to date, which always makes a control freak like me feel accomplished. With my calendar as free as my mind, I skipped the rigidity of scheduling and followed whatever made me happy on any given day. I enrolled in a creative writing course, decluttered my closet, went on spontaneous shopping trips, walked way beyond 10,000 steps per day, continued my Italian conversation class, zipped through museums like a caffeinated retiree on an art binge, reached a new level at my gym, redesigned my website, treated myself to manicures and pedicures, and even ate a white chocolate cookie in a park on a random Tuesday while everyone else was at work.
That last one felt like the ultimate act of rebellion.
Of course, I also followed the news, got upset, and cried over the terrible injustices affecting so many. I did what I could to contribute, and felt enormous appreciation for my freedom, privilege, and circumstances. Overall, I spent a considerable amount of time with myself—my desires, interests, preferences, emotions, curiosities, and fears. That was long overdue. As a result, I feel like a more creative, liberated individual, which was the goal all along. So give yourself time (even a day!) to be with yourself and see what makes you feel alive. And then, practice coming back to yourself regularly.
As enchanted and carefree as I was during my break, I’m also not delusional: I knew the gloomy day would come when I'd have to return to work. So, I created routines. This is where my Type A personality trumped my more bohemian "carpe diem" side. Life, I’ve realized, is an ongoing balancing act between the structured and the spontaneous, the predictable and the indulgent, the Zurichs and the Valencias of the world. The key, I think, is to establish flexible routines—something you adhere to in spirit, but allow room for spontaneity and experimentation. I can become rather dull if I only stick to routines, but without any structure at all, I find myself overwhelmed with chaos, which, as you can imagine, doesn’t sit well with my Type A tendencies. The routine I’ve devised is neither overambitious nor too loose. Soon, I’ll have the chance to test it in the unrelenting, sabbatical-free world.
“Life, I’ve realized, is an ongoing balancing act between the structured and the spontaneous, the predictable and the indulgent, the Zurichs and the Valencias of the world.”
So here I am, rebooting my laptop, just as I once sharpened my pencils and prepared my books and notebooks for the start of a new school year. It’s time to return. But life doesn’t have to be all work and no play, and I’m choosing to embrace it with more curiosity, openness, and joy.
Here’s to more midweek cookies in the park, unhurried walks to nowhere in particular, captivating books, cozy movie marathons, and, above all, those priceless moments under a blanket, with a warm cup in hand, sharing the quiet closeness of someone you cherish even more than a sabbatical.
I’m always grateful for your thoughts & comments below.
You can search for any destination currently featured on mucho mundo here and consult the blog articles here.
