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This is my first post since returning to MM+M after my…What should I call it? A sabbatical? A leave of absence? Time in the wilderness? Restorative interlude? Hiatus (“a pause or gap in a sequence”) seems like the right word, so I’ll go with that. I took a hiatus. 

On July 1, 2024, after more than five years in various roles at MM+M and its parent company, Haymarket Media, I decided I needed a change. So I got certified as a life guard, aquatics instructor and personal trainer and left the media world behind. After almost 40 years, I was trying something new. 

It was the most radical decision I had ever made. Up until that point, my life flowed in a straight-line progression from college to a job to a bigger job to a still bigger job to a really big job. But I burned out. What had started in college as the pursuit of a way to get paid to write had become a bummer of spreadsheets and numbers as I chased bigger jobs. 

So I bailed. And in some ways, the last 14 months have been the best of my life. But after a while, gradually, I sensed that something was missing. So here I am, editor-at-large of MM+M, a brand I know well. Still, I learned a lot in those 14 months. If you are a mid- or late-career executive and wonder if you can, or should, take a sabbatical (paid!) or hiatus (not so much), let me tell you, yes, you absolutely should if you can. But go into it with a plan and you may be surprised at what you come out of it with. Here are eight things I learned while on hiatus that I hope I never forget:

1. Remember what you love. I’ve been around water all my life, and worked as an ocean lifeguard when I was in high school and college. I love swimming, and I’ve been a coach even during my publishing career, so working for minimum wage as a lifeguard and for slightly more as a coach seemed like a natural thing to pivot to. And it was. Getting up at 5 am to open the pool seemed more like a labor of love than getting up to catch a flight to a conference, even on frigid January mornings. And seeing the tangible results of my efforts almost every day in the form of people being able to float, swim or dive off the starting blocks was its own reward. I have a t-shirt proclaiming “Water Always Wins.” Now I know why.

2. Disconnect. Lifeguards can’t carry mobile phones; they’re too distracting. To keep our focus sharp, we worked in shifts of 30 minutes on station followed by 15 minutes of rest. Thirty minutes is a long time to be alone with your thoughts, especially after having a job that I thought required me to always be online and reachable. And at first, I twitched. But after two weeks I came to love the quiet creeping into my mind. I could watch the swimmers and mentally critique their strokes. As my mind calmed down, my blood pressure dropped. After another two weeks, I started writing passages in my head as I paced, letters I never sent. Book proposals. Emails to friends. The clarity of thought was a godsend. And as I write this, my phone is in another room.

3. Move. The pool I worked at encouraged its guards to move around as a way to stay alert. We had to keep our eyes always on the water and scan our area, but we didn’t have to sit motionless in a guard chair. So I walked around the pool while I visually swept my sectors. And by the end of the shift, I would have walked 20,000 steps, about 10 miles of endless laps. Combined with three-hour shifts in the water, I was constantly in motion. The result: I slept like a rock and craved healthy food. And after two weeks I was left wondering how in hell had I ever held down desk jobs? The life of constant activity, of motion, was what I had envisioned for my adult self as a teenager. And now, on the other side of 60, I had found it. (I’ll be back in a bit: I need to take a lap around the block.)

4. In-person is best. My new gigs required me to be at a specific place at a specific time. There was absolutely nothing virtual about what I did. I suppose this point is connected to No. 2 above, putting the phone down. But the lack of screen time of any type, of seeing colleagues, passing the time of day with them and talking about pool life was refreshing. While I don’t relish having to ride New Jersey Transit again, I do love seeing my new/old colleagues again, and the little, everyday interactions of office life. 

5. Reconnect. In my headlong career rush, I had failed to stay truly connected with some of my oldest and best friends. There were occasional texts, and holiday cards and all too often sad emails about big life changes, which, had we stayed connected, I could have at least seen coming. So when I pivoted I made it a point to reach out to old friends and to have, if not in-person hang outs, then actual phone calls (no screens). I got together with Matt, my adventure buddy from the 90s, to trudge the sandy Bataan Memorial Death March in New Mexico. We made a weekend of it, and spent more time watching sports and drinking beer than marching. But that’s what we did in the 90s, too.

6. Learn something new. I had a half-baked idea about becoming a race organizer. I’d done hundreds of triathlons and 5ks and open water races over the years, and putting them on always seemed like a cool side hustle. So I apprenticed myself to a few event organizers, helping set up the start and finish lines, as well as on-course support, for several runs, tris and bike races. It was back-breaking physical labor, much of which took place in the middle of the night to prepare for sunrise starts. The organizers were all incredibly generous with their knowledge and expertise and willingly answered every bone-headed question I asked. The experience helped me develop a new perspective and appreciation for a world I thought I knew. 

7. Hold on loosely, but don’t let go. I had thought that when I left MM+M, my days of reading about pharma and life sciences were behind me. In the interest of mind-clearing, I purposely stayed away from the news. But pharma, and health and wellness, are such big topics that it was impossible to stay away. Plus? It’s really interesting stuff that drives so much of daily life, to say nothing of the economy. It was also a way to stay abreast of my colleagues and former clients, so many of whom had become true friends. I’m glad I did, because that connection has led me back to where I am now.

8. Be like water. Like the shirt says, “Water Always Wins.” Why? Because it is persistent. It moves. It is inevitable. It is the sea, which is life. Water’s persistence leads it, inevitably, to where it is supposed to be. To where it needs to be. Water, in all its clarity, led me back here. And I extend my thanks.