My personal autumn

On learning to listen when the body speaks

It’s a blustery, damp day. Fallen tree leaves of every imaginable shade from yellow to orange let the wind carry them far from where they have fallen, one gust at a time. The sun is trying very hard to find a crack in the clouds to show its presence at least for a few seconds before being cut off from the scene again. It is chilly outside and comfortable, but not too warm as the heating is still not on, inside. There is no doubt: autumn is here. It is a cycle, something we witness time and again, with a big part of nature falling slowly into a slumber, shedding away anything that would take too much energy to keep going during the tougher winter months.

As I walk through the park in this autumn setting I can’t help but think of my own process of slowing down as I went into my sabbatical: there would be less external pressures, no “have tos” but “want tos” or “what if I try this”; I would free my mind from the hamster wheel of deadlines, deliverables, planning and managing people and business; I would let my mind flow freely and allow my energy on the day to decide what step to take next. It was the El Dorado of mental freedom after all those years of following agendas and checking to do lists – professional and private ones. The whole purpose of this time out was to pause, reflect, take stock of my energy and where I want to put it going forward. I would be in total control. Or would I?

I was so focused on the mental part of my journey – which I thought was the reason for my sabbatical-, that I failed to consider the emblematic phrase of “Mens sana in corpore sano” (latin for “a healthy mind in a healthy body”). Some friends had warned me that when they started their sabbaticals, they spent the first few weeks sleeping or resting, almost feeling apathy towards anything they came across. They gently explained that this was almost like a rite of passage for anyone going into a sabbatical. It’s a transitional moment.

I did the opposite: I immediately got myself busy. First, organizing my 50^th birthday party and entertaining friends and family that came to visit me for the occasion. Then, as the new school year started, my regular activities kicked-off, and I added a little bit more sport than usual along with connecting with people I had long wanted to catch up with but never had the time to and then, there was the “usual” social life. I even started this Substack the same day I stopped working!

I clearly didn’t get the hint, that strange tingling sensation on the top of my chest that triggered me walking out of the office and take sick leave. It became a blind spot that came back with a vengeance after the first excitement of freedom dissipated. So, two weeks after my sabbatical started I lost the control I thought I had and my body gained it. Not sure what caused it in medical terms, but timings are suspiciously close to when this big change in my life was happening and the physical problem more than suspiciously close to the tingling sensation… So here I am, seven weeks into my long-awaited sabbatical and, five weeks into the most painful physical experience of my life: a herniated disc on my cervical that radiates all the way through my left arm up to the thumb and the index finger.

I get the message. This is not only about my mind and how I feel emotionally, it is about the system as a whole, of which the body is a big part of it, the bottom of the pyramid on which the rest is built. Both mind and body need to go through this together and there is no healthy mind if there is no healthy body. I learned it the hard way. I am now taking the necessary rest, taking care of myself in its larger sense. I paused the whirlwind of activities I threw myself into to recover and once I am back on my feet, I know I will be able to move forward with all the energy I need.

I should have looked more out of the window and learned from mother nature: to be reborn stronger, we sometimes need to physically shed off old energy to make space for a renewal. That is the cycle we witness with the seasons and every year, new flowers bloom, leaves grow and trees become stronger. This sabbatical is my autumn and everything I patiently go through in the coming months will be allow me to grow stronger, ready for my own personal spring.