Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Sam + sabbatical = Sambatical


This past weekend, Phil took PTO (paid time off) and had 4 days off in a row (what?!! amazing!) Because he has to schedule PTO a good deal in advance, we knew for a while that we wanted to make the most of our time. We thought about going camping or going to Chicago for a few days...however, a couple of weeks ago, we were able to go camping at the last minute, meeting friends in the Upper Peninsula for the hind-end of their trip . And the more we thought about a trip to the city, the more we liked the idea of Chicago in the fall. We like cities in the fall. Walking arm in arm down colorful streets with crisp air and warm, inviting windows. Sipping hot drinks. Sounds nice, right?! So...we decided to wait a bit for Chicago. 
When I was 17, a few days before leaving for my first international trip, I wondered into a goodwill. At the time, I got everything at goodwill. It's what all the cool kids did, I guess. And by cool kids, I mean all of my camp friends! We refused to buy things at retail price when we could find a used version at goodwill for 50 cents.
Anyhow, I wanted a few books for the 48 hours of travel time it would take me before I arrived in my final destination in the heart of Asia. Nowadays, I would not recommend finding your reading material in the same way...even then, it was risky! I don't remember any other book I purchased that day, save for Anne Morrow Lindbergh's Gift From The Sea, a modern-day classic published in 1955! (I have to laugh when I think of "a modern day classic"... Does my generation even know what that is? or do we have such a thing today?!) It was a random purchase for sure, and I actually didn't read it during any of my flights. I didn't read the book until maybe four or five months later...sitting alone in a rooftop restaurant, overlooking the magnificent Himalayas. Being landlocked, surrounded by mountains, it had been months since I had seen anything resembling "the sea"; nevertheless, it was the only book I had with me. It was light and fit easily in my backpack, so I pulled it out and began to read...
Over ten years later, I'm still reading. 
Google Anne Lindbergh and read a little about her life and works. Really, an incredible human being, to say the least. The life she lived...heroic, devastatingly sad, beautiful, passionate, reflective, thoughtful, and with a bent towards the inward. Just google her. You'll be glad you did.
This particular book was penned while she was on personal holiday, away from husband, five children, and the everyday business of suburban life. She retreated to an island, alone, to be...
alone. 
"What an idea", I thought, as I sat there enjoying my "alone-ness". 
The term sabbatical comes from the biblical Sabbath which serves a basic human need to build periods of rest and refreshment into one's life. Traditionally, sabbaticals are found in academic careers, every seven years, to allow one to pursue  the fulfillment of a longterm goal, to build a new skill, or for continued research. 
Every year since that time in my life, I've taken a sabbatical. Only in recent years have I begun to call it Sambatical. 
Realizing Phil had this PTO and we did not have hard and fast plans, I thought, this is it! This is my time to be alone. This is the time for Phil to be alone with Ransom. This is the time for Phil to be alone. And this is the time for Phil and I to be alone together. 
And we did just that. I went away for a night and a morning. Eating, drinking, sleeping, waking, thinking, reading, alone. Phil and Ransom had their first ever "alone together" time. We all regrouped for a day spent together at the zoo and wondering down side-streets in a sprawling, funky, inspiring part of Grand Rapids. The next day, Phil left for an afternoon and evening alone. He drank coffee and beer and had the time and space to pen some of his thoughts on being a physician. 
You can read his beautiful + poignant words here:
And the following (and final) day, Phil and I concentrated on our "alone together" time with brunch and intentional conversation. 
As Anne writes, (She's an old friend, so I call her by her first name :)
"Actually these are among the most important times in one's life--when one is alone. Certain springs are tapped only when we are alone. The artist knows he must be alone to create; the writer, to work out his thoughts; the musician to compose; the saint, to pray. But women need solitude in order to find again the true essence of themselves: that firm strand which will be the indispensable center of a whole web of human relationships"
For me, Sambatical is a restful time, literally. I take rest. It is a creative time. I'm more sensitive to different shades of color and subtle sounds such as the bee humming in the garden. It is a holiday--a time for those things out of "my ordinary"; so I may stay up late OR go to bed early.... I may get ice cream or have a third cup of coffee. 
Sambatical is a reflective time. I think about my roles and responsibilities as wife and mother. I think about my art, caring for people's hearts, minds and bodies. It is a holy time. My heart cries with prayers that my mind has been too crowded to know of...
Some people may think I'm crazy to go to dinner and a bed and breakfast alone. Some may think time alone is selfish. Some may think it's just pointless. Or maybe there is just no time to do such a thing. Or its too expensive. 
I think it's important. I think it's necessary. I think it's possible. 
Yes!... even when you have little kids, a demanding job, or a limited income. 
Make part of everyday (even five minutes), 
every week (an hour after the kids are in bed), 
every month (a morning away to breakfast alone), 
and every year, a sabbatical.  
Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed...
Mark 1:35






1 comment:

  1. I love how you write. You have a real talent. When our kids were little Barry and I used to leave the kids with relatives or friends we trusted sometimes and just go away for an overnight. Sometimes I'll hear people say how they have to go home to an empty house and how they don't like it. I think to myself, "really, I would love that." It's nice to come home to an empty house. Well, maybe not all the time. 😊 Karen

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