Re(de)fining Work

Learning to Lie Fallow

Last August, I voluntarily left a challenging, stressful job as a nonprofit executive, thinking I might take some time off before throwing myself into my next job search. I had gotten used to working 6 days a week since December 2020, when I accepted a full-time position as a nonprofit CEO alongside my part-time call as a parish priest in the Episcopal Church. This pattern continued after I moved from Chicago to Philadelphia in July 2022, when I took on a new nonprofit CEO job, and then in January 2023, another assignment as a part-time parish priest. I have been bivocational for many years; and to be honest, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Making a difference in both religious and secular communities energizes and fulfills me.

Yet I will confess that the surfeit of stress accumulated over many years had taken its toll. For the record, this was attributable mostly to unique features of specific jobs, rather than my bivocational arrangement per se. As a driven, high performer, I had pushed myself to be an exemplary CEO and an exemplary priest. I had accomplished a lot; but I was depleted. My brain felt like mush. I wasn’t sleeping well. I was frequently irritable for no apparent reason. So, when I had the option to take some time off, I took it. Not everyone enjoys this level of economic privilege and has the choice, so I am very, very grateful.

The respite has been, as you might expect, incredibly restorative. It has allowed me to visit my family in Florida for two whole weeks, focus on developing my social media presence, read books, and spend more time with friends. I had been charging at breakneck speed for so long with so much stress that I hadn’t realized how mentally and physically exhausted I had become. For the first couple of months of what I have been calling my “sabbatical,” I let myself lie fallow. I gave myself permission to not look for a job. After all, I had earned a rest. My midwestern, American work ethic bristled at this, though, because somewhere I had learned that “if you’re not working, you’re being lazy and irresponsible. Shame on you.”

What has saved me, though, is creative work, and more specifically, writing. A dear friend of mine has been writing his memoir; and he has confided that the process of writing about his life has been deeply therapeutic, allowing him to come to a greater understanding of himself and to gain perspective on issues that had long proven troublesome and untidy. Similarly, I have found that I had taken much pride (probably too much) in working hard, of being both a CEO and a parish priest. So, after working six days a week — even though I was very good at promoting good work/life balance for my employees — it was hard for me to feel OK about working much less, even if it was only for a season, a sabbatical for me to recharge my batteries.

I have enjoyed the rest; but I’m now feeling antsy to get back to work full time. I have high-performing friends who are also enduring — yes, I say “enduring,” since there are few things more dispiriting than looking for a new job — a protracted job search. Their own struggles of lying fallow have inspired me, filled me with a sense of solidarity and motivation to use the remaining weeks or months of my sabbatical creatively.

Lying fallow doesn't mean lazy, I’ve discovered. For me, it has meant allowing my frozen brain to thaw and to become vibrant again. As the congealed stress has liquefied and drained away, I have found my mind bubbling with creativity and enthusiasm. I finally have the energy to collate the ideas that have been percolating into something concrete, putting pen to paper (digitally, of course) and write the book that I’ve been promising to write for the last several years. Like my friend, my writing process has been therapeutic. I have had the mental clarity and precision to codify what I believe about myself, about God, about queer identity and culture. I hope others will find reading it as life-giving as writing it has been for me, once it’s finished.

Most of all, I believe that creative work has allowed me to redefine, or at least refine, my understanding of what qualifies as “work.” American culture is so dysfunctional in the way it defines “work.” Work is the source of your livelihood. It’s what pays you money to do a job. While your job may bring you fulfillment and even joy in some cases, anything that doesn’t include a job title or paycheck is a hobby, an interest, or at best, “a side hustle.” Such endeavors are of lesser dignity and importance, deserving of less of our time and commitment. This is the message that is relentlessly inculcated in our culture.

My sabbatical is teaching me that it is for each of us to decide for ourselves what work is and how to make it meaningful. The world can be remarkably unimaginative and unsupportive in commending an expansive understanding of work that fosters human thriving. For us job-seekers, it means taking a holistic view of ourselves that accounts for our myriad needs. Yes, we need a paycheck and work that pays all of our bills; but some of us also need work that will feed the soul, whether it brings home the bacon or not. So, as we look for the next great opportunity, it is important to be mindful of what feeds our soul and what does not. Will the next job allow time and space for the other work that keeps us sane, optimistic and productive? Or will the next job demand everything of us, so that we are only left with the dregs of who we are?

A sabbatical can provide enormous clarity when our minds are given the leisure to declutter and reset. It can allow us to reevaluate and reprioritize our lives. During the COVID-19 pandemic, people did just that during what has become known as “The Great Resignation.” People realized that life is short; and what really matters isn’t always what we have been raised to believe, especially when it comes to our work. People quit their jobs, relocated across the country to be closer to family, switched industries, started their own businesses, explored new hobbies and interests. As we enter this new year, whether you’re looking for a new job or not, what choices are you going to make? What work is going to work for you?

Abundant blessings,

Ethan Alexander+