On Thresholds and Beginnings

There is a particular stillness at the edge of something new

Hello friend,

I am still blown away by the love and reception I continue to get from you wonderful human beings, and something tells me I will marinate in this feeling for much longer. (Thank you.)

Today I’m reflecting on what being on a sabbatical has been like for me. It’s nice. I wake up getting to choose what to do with the day and no longer flick to the calendar widget on my phone to see how busy my day promises to be. Most days begin with a slow coffee; picking beans collected from my travels to hand grind, dripping water from a gooseneck kettle (I try to achieve a rather pleasing steady-state flow and recall my adventures in fluid dynamics class at university), a little breakfast of overnight oats I had the energy to prepare the night before, and sometimes, poetry or a wonderful podcast for company.

But first, coffee. Always, coffee. Craignure, March 2025.

I enjoy the quiet of moving in slow motion.

I thought I wouldn’t know what I might do with all this time I now own - spend it as I did my weekends - marathon watching Netflix, scrolling to try and find the end of my social media feeds, or feeling as I often do at networking events, awkward, standing in a corner wondering what I should be doing with my hands, as if I suddenly possess too many limbs.

I was wrong.

Or more accurately, I set up a system of decision making that will prove my initial assumptions wrong time and time again.

How I Began Beginning

Like the Camino de Santiago, where the pilgrimage starts way before you set foot on your starting point, my sabbatical began way before November 2024 in the form of lists. I defined categories and added to my lists whenever I felt a longing or desire (these sound like “If only I could _____________” or “I wish _____________”) following just one rule: if you think it, write it down.

Here is the list of categories that I defined:

• ❤️ People I want to reconnect with

• ✏️ Things I want to write about

• 🎨 Crafts I want to create

• 🥦 Health-giving activities I want to try

• ✈️ Journeys I want to make

• ✨ Experiences I want to have

• 📖 Books I want to read (leisurely!)

• 🖇 Home improvement projects I want to work on

• 🤓 Skills I want to learn or hone

When I stepped back to have a look at my list of lists (☺️), a clear theme emerged: these are all things I wouldn’t be able to do if I stayed in my job, because I wouldn’t have the time, energy or headspace to.

This formed the guiding principle for how I would spend my time: if the activity is something I could only do because I’m on a sabbatical, and it fits into at least one of the categories - I say a wholehearted YES.

I’m a fan of front-loading decisions and optimising time spent on decision making. Getting clear on the guiding approach to my sabbatical has helped me save time I would otherwise have spent hemming and hawing, and given me the confidence that I am using my hiatus time well.

How That’s Worked Out for Me?

Beautifully.

Moments connecting and reconnecting with the wonderful humans in my life have filled my heart with more than it can hold. I’ve seen friends I haven’t seen in years, spoken about tender things we have been carefully avoiding, and listened to hidden stories previously too painful to put voice to. All this because listening, really listening, is now a luxury I can afford to people close to me, no longer limited only to my team members and coaching clients.

It is a wonderful feeling.

Staying Ahead of Doubt

I do not take this confidence for granted. Having done the work, I am well aware that saboteur and inner critic voices emerge from their murky depths when I least expect them, so to turn the volume down on these voices (more on this in next week’s post), I keep stock of the things I’ve done whilst on my sabbatical. It serves as a fun way of documenting my break, and learning how to use Notion as I go.

I am filled with gratitude for the wonderful humans who help make my board and life colourful. You folks rock, period.

An Invitation

I currently see my sabbatical as a shavasana for my career life; a state of rest that’s allowing my whole body to adjust to and integrate the benefits of the work I’ve put in across the years.

What benefits might you be looking to integrate?
Which beginnings have you quietly moved to the bottom of your to-do list?

What I Wish Upon You

The courage to jump into unknowing, and once there, the unshakeable force that keeps you paddling forward.

I leave you with this poem from Philip Larkin.
May we savour beginning afresh.

The Trees
The trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said;
The recent buds relax and spread,
Their greenness is a kind of grief.

Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too,
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain.

Yet still the unresting castles thresh
In fullgrown thickness every May.
Last year is dead, they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.

Always a beginner,
Min

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And a little bonus because you made it to the end. Here’s my current favourite podcast. You will learn things you didn’t think were interesting. I hope you like it.